I pace in flint and on earth made of steel.
Walk in the church and walls begin to sear
Crumbling to rubble, scatter the ashes…to ashes, dust into dirt.
Prepare to feel every ounce of my fucking hurt.

Be not afraid
It’s not the end of the world,
it’s just the end of you.

I’ll bury you eight feet under,
To make sure you’d stay down.
At all costs, i’ll protect from your return.
Striking down, but first turn over thy crown.


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Under the Gun on Instagram

C’mon Chicago, lets get weird.  We know you like fucking up beer, and so do we.  Come follow us on Instagram, we promise not to disappoint.

@underthegunchicago