Killing Time on a Sunday Afternoon

Summer time, bored and spent on speed
Killing time on a Sunday afternoon
Pistol smoke and the stench of weed
Johnny Boy, what are we gonna do

Big ideas come up to me
This won't hurt a bit, I think

Stomach shot, Johnny crawls away
Stomach shot, a trail of ants will play
Stomach shot, not much left to say
He passes out, maybe Chick-fil-a

Empty parking lot greets me
Foolish boy, they're closed today
You foolish boy, I'll show the way
Pistol shot, glass it walls away
Sirens closing, I'll get my way