Surely, soon, before we grow tired
Load your gun, fire us all
A few will of course fall, but steady and astute we will stand for the most part
Those bullets, relatively glorious, came roaring all round – clouds of doubt necessary
Clear the right ones out, injure the rest just enough
Hold us who care right to your breast
A smirk, then a smile, wait a little while ’til letting you in, oh so mild
Take my hand, forever child