Burning sun, keep it simple.

Gasoline, dribble down my intentions. Leave me ready.
As I walk, keep it steady your already angry.
Because the simple fact of, it's just so ironic... I choke.
Over the bullet between you and me...

It's an old fashioned Mexican standoff.
Burning sun, keep me below again.

Alright for the second time, I'll take the cyanide pill.
Because I was sold out, for the sake of sandpaper traction.
Of your dreams against reality, against my personality.
Disorder, your favorite thing to wear when the weather is right.

Cause if I died tonight you swear you'd cry.
But as I can not take this and fill the hollow.
Cause if I died tonight you swear you'd cry.
Cause I'm your perfect mirror to hang, to look insane.

It's an old fashioned Mexican standoff.
Burning sun, keep it simple.
There is no need for anything more.
You've melted me to the floor.

Now that I am stuck here.
I might begin to feel the pain again...

Now that I am stuck here.
I might begin to feel the pain again...
But it's to deep, for this venom to seep in.
It's my lover she is all I want in.

Cause if I died tonight you swear you'd cry.
But as I can not take this and fill the hollow.
Cause if I died tonight you swear you'd cry.
Cause I'm your perfect mirror to hang, to look insane.

Now that I am stuck here.
I might begin to feel your perfect mirror again.
Hanging there to make me look insane.

It's an old fashioned Mexican standoff.
Burning sun, keep it simple.
There is no need for anything more.
You've melted me to the floor.

Reviews

[Gary H]

There's some clever images created here. I see two Mexican bandits ready to fire - the burning sun producing sparks that set off the gasoline - the bullet hanging between you and another - actually writing all these thoughts down gives an idea of a Quentin Taranatino type creation.

I'm guessing I have missed the point but I have taken a lot from reading this which is what poetry is all about!