The Human Race

What is it about it, the human race? Where are we going, will it be safe? Or will we all have guns? And shoot each other on the run? I don’t own one, you know a gun. I have a friend who has many and then some. I once asked him how many rounds he had. I think he answered, four thousand I’m sad. Should I buy one and learn to shoot? I’m not military, don’t know how to salute. Perhaps he’s right to be able to defend himself. If hell breaks loose and it’s me or all else. I’d like to think that nothing matters That the life we have known is all in tatters. That if it comes to killing each other. Then I’ll say goodbye and say why bother. I’m sixty one and my life is a mess I won’t tell you why, no need to confess. But if owning a gun will make me succeed. I think I’ll pass, no weapon I need. Hold on, there’s nothing that is cast in stone If my country doesn’t leave me alone. I’ll follow my friend to the gun store And buy all the rounds, should have bought before. If our country loses its lofty ideals And all it stands for, all its appeals. If I can’t buy a gun, protect my life’s deal I’m a dead man, my government will seal.