End of War.

You shoot me. I shoot you.
Our bullets stick to each other,
though we hardly do.

I curse you. You curse me.
Our street-fights are welcome home
though seldom are we.

You smack me. I smack you.
Our egos throttle homes rattle
though (the) battles continue.

I kill you. You kill me.
But there're no flowers or Shiva's to go
(as) the demon is set free.

We all wanted sunshine. We all needed rain.
We all were living just as Franco saved Spain.
Truth were nude but nudity was legal
Food was the cause to fight, life was frugal.

We spelt it wrong. We didn't get the takes.
Some call it an end when the brake breaks.
My bullet will end you pal, your bullet mine
If both of us press the button, ain't be any spine.