My hands are shaking. I reached for Tyler's hand slowly. I put my hand on top of his. He picked up his phone.
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tylerjoseph : just hold my hand already spooky
so, I did. and we watched the night before christmas together, just enjoying each other's presence.
"Tyler," I whispered.
"Yes, Josh?"
"You said you could sing, right?"
"Yeah, but I'm not any good."
"Sing for me." I ask.
"Josh..."
"Please, Tyler?" I pout. I'm such a brat. He probably hates me.
"Okay fine." He gives up.
"I won't make fun of you, I promise."
He bites his lip. Cute. He pulls out a torn book. He flips through it and stops on a page.
He sits down at the piano in his room. I turn towards him so I can watch him play.
He takes a deep breath in, and sings.
"I know what you think in the morning,
When the sun shines on the ground,
And shows what you have done,
It shows where your mind has gone,
And you swear to your parents,
That it will never happen again,
I know, I know what that means, I know.
That you all have guns,
And you never put the safety on,
And you all have plans,
To take it, to take it,
Don't take it, take it, take it.
I'm trying, I'm trying to sleep,
I'm trying, I'm trying to sleep,
But I can't, but I can't when you all have,
Guns for hands, yeah
I'm trying, I'm trying to sleep,
I'm trying, I'm trying to sleep,
But I can't, but I can't when you all have,
Guns for hands, yeah
Let's take this a second at a time,
Let's take this one song, this one rhyme,
Together, let's breathe,
Together, to the beat,
But there's hope out the window,
So that's where we'll go,
Let's go outside and all join hands,
But until then you'll never understand.
That you all have guns,
And you never put the safety on,
And you all have plans,
To take it, to take it,
Don't take it, take it, take it.
I'm trying, I'm trying to sleep,
I'm trying, I'm trying to sleep,
But I can't, but I can't when you all have,
Guns for hands, yeah.
hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey,
hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey,
hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey,
la, da, da, da, da
We've turned our hands to guns, trade in our thumbs for ammunition,
I must forewarn you, of my disorder, or my condition,
'Cause when the sun sets, it upsets what's left of my invested interest,
Interested in putting my fingers to my head,
The solution is, I see a whole room of these mutant kids,
Fused at the wrist, I simply tell them they should shoot at this,
Simply suggest my chest and this confused music,
It's obviously best for them to turn their guns to a fist.
I'm trying, I'm trying to sleep,
I'm trying, I'm trying to sleep,
But I can't, but I can't when you all have,
Guns for hands, yeah.
I'm trying, I'm trying to sleep,
I'm trying, I'm trying to sleep,
But I can't, but I can't when you all have,
Guns for hands, yeah."
He looks up at me. "Tyler, that was...amazing!" I say. "You're voice, the lyrics, the piano...it was perfect." I say.
"Yeah, I guess, but it's missing something." He says.
"Like what? What could make it any better than it already is?" I ask.
"Drums." He looks at me. "And a drummer, since I can't play." He sits on the bed. "Luckily I know the perfect guy."
I look up.
"Me?"
"You."
GUNS FOR HANDS YA
