I was born in the blast of a furnace of steel 
And I wondered what shape I would be 
I was hard, I was cold, I was just a day old 
And I wondered what future I'd see 
Then a rough pair of hands fashioned peaces of steel 
And a handle of smooth silky wood 
And an arm held me out 
While the eye of the man kept staring as hard as he could

I was [bad word] with bullets, with jackets of steel 
And then taken outside in the light 
Then he aimed me direct at a man on a horse 
And his hands squeezed me tighter than tight 
bursting of fire exploded inside me sent flying [bad word] of heat 
As the smoke cleared the way 
I could see straight ahead the man who layed dead in the street

I'm a gun, I'm a gun 
Til the day that man destroys me I'm a gun 
It's not the gun that kills a man 
It's the man who fires the gun that kills a man 
It's not the gun that kills a man

I tried to call out but my steel has no tongue 
And to men I am only a slave 
I've never forgotten that terrible day 
And that man that I couldn't save 
No one knows what it means to be held in a hand 
To be pointed and triggered to kill 
To be labeled a gun with no power to stop 
All the blood that man shooting will spill