In "Gun," Esme Emerson wrestles with the gap between affection and self-doubt, asking why love was declared while bracing for blame. The repeated claim of not being the gun suggests a refusal to keep firing at their own worth, even as old habits of picking up pain and breaking teeth on hard choices persist. The bridge turns on a need to test feeling itself, circling the same emotions to see if anything still lands. It is a quiet plea for gentleness while learning to stop treating tenderness like a weapon.
Gun Lyrics by Esme Emerson
Baby, darling, friend of mine
Soft as stone, god bless denial
I can overbear sometimes
Why am I afraid of fire?
Throwing out your canned soda
Damp walls, paint them over
I get overwhelmed
Ain’t I a quitter, bitter, waste?
Why did you say you love me?
Hold your fire
It’s my bad
It’s the point
And this time I am not the gun
I am not the gun
I pick it up sometimes
Make myself up, then I fall in line
Yeah, I pick it up sometimes
Breaking my teeth on the things I bite
I can’t tell if I’ll get it right
That billboard looks like a warning sign
If I get worried
I just might say
Why did you say you love me?
Hold your fire
It’s my bad
It’s the point
And this time I am not the gun
I am not the gun
Yeah
Softly, do it again
I need to find out if I feel anything
You got me
Tell me again
Big bad dog in the big open
And I’ll keep running around
Circle the same old feelings down
Softly, do it again
I need to find out if I feel anything
Softly, oh softly
