What I Was Afraid Of · Track 90 · middle
Glock 17
Glock 17 — Modern polymer-framed pistol. Register: modern. This song is sung BY this weapon, in first person, about the one thing IT was afraid of. Find the fear that is true of this specific object, not a generic one.
No audio yet — generation pending.
Lyrics
Keys. Wallet. Phone. I don't have a wooden grip to polish, no silver to catch the sun I was born in a factory mold, a chemical run Countless little pieces, snapped tight in the sterile air I sit in the center console, breathing the AC there Right next to the mints and the frayed charging wire Right next to the crumpled receipts in the drawer I have a million brothers, we share the exact same face A matte black shadow that doesn't take up any space And that is what keeps me awake in the dark I made it too easy to carry the spark Twenty-four point seven ounces loaded, I don't leave a bruise On the hip, on the conscience, on the man who will choose I took all the gravity out of the end I am light as a habit, my friend I am terrified of the casual hand That picks me up like a remote control No heavy steel cylinder to make you think twice Just a polymer frame and a very low price Just a steady pressure to break through the wall You barely notice you're holding a weapon at all I map to your palm, a synthetic extension of nerve Your fingers find me and sink in the textured curve Before you are angry, before your mind even clears I have already vanished into your gears And that is what keeps me awake in the dark I made it too easy to carry the spark Twenty-four point seven ounces loaded, I don't leave a bruise On the hip, on the conscience, on the man who will choose I took all the gravity out of the end I am light as a habit, my friend I am terrified of the casual hand That picks me up like a remote control The old irons rusted, they jammed, they demanded a ritual I am just here. I am perfectly, coldly habitual No safety to flick with your thumb, just the one on the trigger I made the world smaller. I made the quiet much bigger. I am the appliance of stopping a heart. I don't even look like a dangerous part. And that is what keeps me awake in the dark I made it too easy to carry the spark Twenty-four point seven ounces loaded, I don't leave a bruise On the hip, on the conscience, on the man who will choose I took all the gravity out of the end I am light as a habit, my friend I am terrified of the casual hand Just another thing you grab. Keys. Wallet. Phone. I don't weigh enough to slow you down. Keys. Wallet. Me.