Stick To Your Guns Songtext
von Watsky

I′ll be gone when you read this so I just wanted to say
I'm sorry to the couple decent people who got in the way
And maybe there was a point at which this all coulda been different
But this is the position we′re in and it's pointless to wish that it isn't

They′ll all be gawking when I walk in the door
Cocking my shotgun hammer and they drop to the floor
The clocks shatter, I scatter the jock horde and splatter the chalkboard
It matters a lot more than half of you thought

When you were knocking me like I′m a laughingstock
And a weakling, a freak and a creep—I was mocked and ignored
You're sorry now but talk is cheap—shoulda thought it before
You′re the sorry flock of sheep who made me rot to core

And of course, you'll make a break to escape through the corridor
Don′t be late—I'll set you up on a date with the coroner
And our fates are sealed, all of you fakes
Don′t worry, this will all be over soon


You got your finger on the trigger, kid
You got your finger on the trigger, kid, c'mon
Line it up, line it up, line it up
And hit me with the truth
You got your finger on the trigger, kid
You got your finger on the trigger, kid, c'mon
Line it up, line it up, line it up
And hit me with the truth

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You got your finger on the trigger, kid
You got your finger on the trigger, kid, c′mon
Line it up, line it up, line it up
And hit me with the truth (stick to your guns)
You got your finger on the trigger, kid (stick to your guns)
You got your finger on the trigger, kid, c'mon (stick to your guns)
Line it up, line it up, line it up (stick to your)
And hit me with the truth (guns)

We come together in this hour of need
To the honor the innocent victims of this cowardly deed
Of course I share your sentiment as your voice in the senate
But let′s accept nothing ever could have been done to prevent it
It's just the strange inner visions of a deranged individual
Full of rage, full of hate, full of vitriol
I gotta mention that it′s sick and insane
My opponent's twisting your pain for political gain

That′s lame
And I think it's a damn shame
It doesn't give anyone power to cast blame
Because the past is past, and it′s best that we keep things the same

So my Chads and my Staceys, go back to the mall
Fill your bags out at Macy′s, and chat in the hall
And I hope I'm the vote that you cast in the fall
′Cause I care for you, it's true

Stick to your guns
Stick to your guns
Stick to your guns
Stick to your guns

You got your finger on the trigger, kid
You got your finger on the trigger, kid