You’re no longer beside me.
I don’t feel so safe at night.
And when I go to work
I’ve got to settle for a knife.
Whenever I might need you,
I know you’ll help me equalize.
It doesn’t matter how many,
It doesn’t matter what size.
I know it’s up to me,
Without a gun I am not equal,
It’s no one else’s job,
You’ve got one life – there is no sequel.
I will not die defenseless,
I will not die in vain.
I’ve got a right to have you here with me,
And when you’re not I feel ashamed.
It shouldn’t matter what my age,
I shouldn’t matter my color.
The Right to bear arms is an essential right,
As sacred as any other.
So when they tell me that I’m too young,
They tell me that I don’t know,
They might have to bend down to tell me –
I might be buried beneath this stone.
I know they’ll never admit it,
They’ll continue to make me fight.
The media will never show the truth,
But by God, it’s my right.
We may not win the war,
We might lose the battle tonight.
But they won’t take you away from me
Without one hell of a fight.
I won’t forget how it feels
To be neglected because you’re young.
I’ll remember that the world is a dangerous place,
No matter which side of 21.
Until then, I’ll save a place for you
Right here on my belt.
I’ll anticipate the day that you’ll be there,
And your comforting weight can be felt.
--Wes Dahl
