Gun To My Back Testo

The walls are closing inMoving like the water on which you walk
Visible air
Creeping like the runner
Gaining on me
He's gaining all the time
Never slowing for the traffic signs
There's a gun to my back
Testing my strengths
Pummeling my words
With the salt of life
The air
It takes a stolen shape
And casts a shadow on your mind
Darker than you thought
It's not my imagination
There's a gun at my back
Walking
On a quarter inch sidewalk
Surrounded by the oil
That lubricates your thoughts
Dark and polluted
Smelling of dead souls
That withered away long ago
It's not my imagination
There's a gun at my back