When Bullets Fly..
Now I'm not complaining
Just a little whining
'cause I feel the need to vent
for there're times things get too hot.
I work all day
twelve hour shifts
Look forward to rest
then play with my sons.
Up my driveway I go
then through the door
Home at last .
When ....zap ! zap! Zing! whissssss! pop !
Ducking and weaving
I narrowly miss the bullets
from the wife's drawn tongue.
Nothing can stop her
once she starts.
A slam of the door
is all it takes
to start a volley of bullets flying.
I hold my breath,
say a prayer and
God does intervene.
She runs out of bullets
retreats, quickly reloads.
Sliding along walls,
easing thru' doors
I grab the boys.
By the time she's ready ,
me and my sons?
Boy, do we hit the road.
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