Lock, Stock and Barrel

By Anjil Sardar

This gun they hold , have guts and power 
Once its loaded , the lock ,stock and barrel Cooperates one another 
It's the gun , who killed my father
This gun is bold ,
 when the distance of blank , it holds ,
Vigorous and rampant ransom it calls 
But what a misery , what a sight I behold ! 
When callous , sadist fingers commits to  the bottom hole with a tiny oar 
The man who raised me , the one who praised me , fell on the street , my father is no more !
Once this gun is  loaded , the lock ,stock and barrel Cooperates one another 
It's the gun , who killed my father

The charges I priced with of simple and Instinctful gestures 
On the way home , through the market place with my father 
Some brain drained figures , stops by 
Oppresively , choking over and over 
My hair was stripped, my shirt hand knit , was slit , my shoes they thrown 
And touches that creeped , and a lot more ,they did 
They were not done yet , still the noir rolling over 
My father revolt , he pushed the one who slit what I wore
One hold him down , another hit him to the ground
But the last one , who smiled and turned
Put up his shirt and brought it out 
He unlocked the stock, cleared the block 
I ran to save my father ! 
This gun they hold , have guts and power 
Once its loaded , the lock ,stock and barrel Cooperates one another 
It's the gun , who killed my father

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