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The Art of Poetry.
Russian roulette
© June 1, 1986 by Paul M. Combs, Jr. All Rights Reserved

Go out, blow your minds, you can borrow my gun
Take a shot, don’t you worry, this game is just for fun
You can live, if you want to; just wait until your turn
If you miss, the sparks from the gun will make you burn

Russian roulette, Russian roulette
Play to win, play for glory, but play the game for fun
Russian roulette, Russian roulette
You can’t play at all without my gun

I’ve seen this game played before with gun loaded with blanks
The players didn’t want to die, so they pulled this prank
It was his turn; he held the gun up to head
He said good-bye, pulled the trigger; those were the last words he said

Russian roulette, Russian roulette
No matter how you play, you’ll die
Russian roulette, Russian roulette
If you’re living you’ll end up dead

His good friends robbed his body, left him bare
They took off, running away, they left him lying there
Those same people, found more victims, to play their game
Who lives, it doesn’t matter. How do you know, it’s all the same

Go out, blow your minds, you can borrow my gun
Take a shot, don’t you worry, this game is just for fun
You can live, if you want to; just wait until your turn
If you miss, the sparks from the gun will make you burn

Russian roulette, Russian roulette
It’s a game of chance
Russian roulette, Russian roulette
You’re taking your life into your hands