One lock and one key
Stuck in the middle of an argument are we
Locked up are our guns and clothes by thee
An test of relations that has nothing to do with me
In the old days i would have blown open the door
A young lack of respect i would take mine and more
im older and wiser but my patience is wearing thin
You've tossed lots of rocks from that glass house you live in
So please get over the nonsense the season is too short
Or give us our things so from your woodlot we will abort
our families count on what we shoot and time is short
Tried silence
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