Why should I play this shoddy daylight game
Why should I drink my nights away, for a sum
Because I'm under the gun
Could it be what my general account can't see
Does my controller really control me
These nights are difficult and I'm still mullin' when they day comes on
One thing about people that I can't really take
Is how they load on Sunday and shoot all week
Why should I write these stupid songs
And wait for marketing people to change me one
I'm under the gun
Why should I sing until I'm 53
Should it make any difference to me
Or you, you're probably under it too
You can be under the weather or sitting on your mother's knee
You could be under a deadline, just like me
Why should we abide all their lies today
Should we pretend not to hear what they say
No way, put 'em under there too
Ah yeah, put 'em under the gun
Like us, put 'em under the gun