A rainy city, no noticeable lights, police and gangsters kick each other as scum.
A true museum, front line, to some extent, so no surprise I am a trophy to some.
The pocket's tight, and the guy who carries me is not my boss but an assistant of mine.
My daily job; they aim, they push, and hop, are there any more in the line?
Don't know. Don't know. xN
I am a gun.
So much for play; they throw me away and get aboard to Costa Rica for fun
Until the rat recalls the trap and that my combination gauge fits many as one.
As sky is navy, I'm angry, steady, heavy, head and hammer smoothest under the sun.
My simple job; they aim, they push, and hop, how old have you been on the run?
Don't know. Don't know. xN
(Ein, Zwei, Polizei!)
I am a gun.
Original/lyrics: music.yandex.ru/album/58902/track/549184
Original/audio: www.youtube.com/watch?v=_GJPmtzz970