I thought that there would be something in me
that would not break.
But then I saw that even a crack in it
causes hellish ache.

A bullet through my head did not kill me,
I was right.
But with a little needle in my chest
I was unable to fight.

Of course I will die from a metal bullet
that shouldn't be hard to get.
But the ones I'm talking about
they come from your mouth.
Those pointless mocking words,
all of them I've heard.
But those needles, in fact,
are not in any stranger's hands.

A bullet through my head did not kill me.