Bullet in the Brainpan

Them, There, When?
Shot 'em up
For where he's been.

Douglas McCarter
In charge
Of the Slaughter.

Douglas McGee
No friend
To you or me.

He burned a lot of bridges
He drew a lot of smoke
It wasn't his choice
It surrounded him like a mote.

Reason is a rhyme;
You rhyme for your reason
You give blood
You get treason

All sakes alive!
For what he died?

Dying on the ground
And left flat
He was a man of the people
You can't take away that.

For nothing
Is something
And you can count on that!