Metaphoric gun ((you placed it in her hands))

Bangs her head against a wall
just to feel the pain
wonders when it'll be ok,
be alright again

Signed their names across her heart
and she hoped to god she'd die
and yet, here she is today,
living a time-bomb of a lie

Funny how realitiy
can be written in blood
and how lovely does the sky look
when you're lying in the mood

Do you ever miss her,
now that she's dust in the wind?
Do you ever think of her,
of all those times she killed you with her sin?

I'm sure that she's quite sorry,
that you put a metaphoric gun into her hands
shot herself dead again and again
ransoming herself with painful demand

Do you ever wonder,
if when she fell she screamed your name?
She needs to know now, do you wonder...
do you love her, even though she lost this game?

She knows deep down in her heart
that you let go, a thousand years gone by
and now all she has left is bitterness and a gun,
and an inability to cry