here on the water no harm could come to me    but a revolver was left on my table by somebody    just in case they said nonchalantly    which was fine at the time but now the words haunt me    sitting there loaded the air is electric    distracting, my thoughts are destructive and hectic    it reminds me of crimes i haven't committed    i feel guilty of having done something i didn't    i'm terrified but for some reason am smiling    the weapon reduces me but also seduces me    i've never know violence and there is none in my plans    i've not even once held a gun in a hands    at least not before now, as i sweat and i shiver    i point it out the window and aim it at the river    i feel so uneasy and sick from within    as if i might kill with the suicides again    dark impulse proposed and my finger accepted    that the shot came quicker than i had expected    the river just swallowed it, nobody noticed    from the bridge, or the pier, not in the remotest...    how easily a crime could be committed here...       it looks like the moon is stuck up the tree    and i am in the mood for a nice cup of tea