Blew my smoke on a sunny day when the first black powder came my way.
Hot lead ball from a muzzle cold, to win fair lady and take your gold.
I know it hardly seems the time to talk of blue steel so sublime.
I can understand your point of view; to tell the truth, I'd scare me too.

Match, wheel and flintlock, they all caught your eye.
Pearl-handled ladies' models, scaled down to size.
I am the peacemaker, so the theory goes.
But I don't choose the company I keep, and it shows.

I am your gun. Love me, I'm your gun.

Maxim and Browning, they helped me along. Stoner, Kalashnikov, thrilled to my song.
Now one of me exists, for each one of you, so how can you blame me for the things that I do?
Now I take second place to the motor car in the score of killing kept thus far.
And just remember, if you don't mind: it's not the gun that kills, but the man behind.

I am your gun.

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