I've got a crush on a pretty pistol Should I tell her that I feel this way? Father told us to be faithful I've got a crush on a pretty pistol Should I tell her that I feel this way I've got love songs in my head That are killing us away Do you love your guns? (Yeah) God? (Yeah) Your government? Do you love your guns? (Yeah) God? (Yeah) Your government? (Fuck yeah) I've got love songs in my head That are killing us away I've got love songs in my head That are killing us away She tells me I'm a pretty bullet I'm gonna be a star someday Mother says that we should look away She tells me I'm a pretty bullet An imitation Christ I've got love songs in my head That are killing us away The Father: Do you love your guns? (Yeah) God? (Yeah) Your government? (Fuck yeah) I've got love songs in my head That are killing us away Do you love your guns? (Yeah) God? (Yeah) Your government? (Fuck yeah)
