GUN CRAZY (Part Fourteen)

there's a price on the angels' heads
they can't be seen around my house anymore
there's no place in Heaven or Hell for them now
I guess that they'll be hanging here awhile
the Heaven-sent hitmen are obvious
gold chains dangle down their chests
they make up excuses to come to my door
and none of them ever make sense
they stammer and stutter out some cover
supply yet another fake mother's name
and that very same mother or substitute other
walks up and treats them like a stranger again

sometimes you can see them blush under the disguises