With The Gun At My Temple

With the gun at my temple,
the power made me tremble,
all by myself,
(for I need no help),
I fought off the baddies, the crooks, the villains, the guards,
the hoodlums, the thieves, the gangsters, the hards,
who were trying to steal
anything they could feel
at this palace of God,
so the master gave the nod:
I pulled out the gun,
and then the fun begun.

Temples are holy places,
they shouldn't house chases,
but I'll make an exception
for this kind of deception.
Stealing jewels, riches, money, crowns,
candles, weapons, statues, gowns,
isn't right at all,
creating a brawl.
Not a bullet was fired,
for the gun was admired
with caution: they fled.
It was that or being dead.

With the gun at my temple,
the power made me tremble,
but I kept my cool
and wasn't a fool.
So the nurses, the lawyers, the priests, the bakers,
the soldiers, the mothers, the preachers, the Quakers
were so thrilled
that no-one was killed.
"it's my duty" I said,
whilst God smiled overhead.
So I carried on in the way
I do every other 'usual' day.