Template:Bullets For The New-Born King: Difference between revisions
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<noinclude>{{Lyrics for|Bullets For The New-Born King}}</noinclude> | <noinclude>{{Lyrics for|Bullets For The New-Born King}}</noinclude> | ||
No one looks in this place for motive or | No one looks in this place for motive or any hope<br> | ||
But for the dead shot of | But for the dead shot of an amber glass<br> | ||
The blue light of | The blue light of a votive<br> | ||
<br> | <br> | ||
The rain obscured the window<br> | |||
As the pain was dulled by the grains<br> | |||
Absolved in spoons and flames<br> | |||
In fear in time dissolving<br> | |||
<br> | <br> | ||
It's not for the faint of pulse<br> | |||
Or anybody false<br> | |||
Those amateurs who only shed their skin<br> | |||
So where are those traitors now, we once called patriots?<br> | |||
Just like those saints who seem to revel in their sins<br> | |||
<br> | <br> | ||
O my eyes were filled with tears that were stinging<br> | |||
After our assassin's work was done<br> | |||
But hands and bells are only there for the wringing<br> | |||
As we were bringing bullets for the new-born king<br> | |||
<br> | <br> | ||
Swallow down that voodoo vial | The trumpet sounds lamenting<br> | ||
Before we spill | Trampling down the blooms of the deceased<br> | ||
And | The double agent girl and the fallen priest were heading for the border<br> | ||
<br> | |||
Somewhere at the high command there stayed the palest hand<br> | |||
That saw the order countermand<br> | |||
Erased a tape recorder and then they hung him from a window cord<br> | |||
<br> | |||
Swallow down that voodoo vial to still your breath a while<br> | |||
Before we spill this tale that has been spun<br> | |||
And so I shall now confide all that I once denied<br> | |||
Oh I'm so sorry for the things I've done<br> | Oh I'm so sorry for the things I've done<br> | ||
<br> | <br> | ||
O my eyes were filled with tears that were stinging<br> | |||
After our | After our assassin's work was done<br> | ||
But bells | But hands and bells are only there for the wringing<br> | ||
As we were bringing bullet for the new-born king<br> | |||
<br> | |||
''Somewhere In Central America - 1951''<br> | |||
Latest revision as of 02:49, 19 August 2010
Bullets For The New-Born King
No one looks in this place for motive or any hope
But for the dead shot of an amber glass
The blue light of a votive
The rain obscured the window
As the pain was dulled by the grains
Absolved in spoons and flames
In fear in time dissolving
It's not for the faint of pulse
Or anybody false
Those amateurs who only shed their skin
So where are those traitors now, we once called patriots?
Just like those saints who seem to revel in their sins
O my eyes were filled with tears that were stinging
After our assassin's work was done
But hands and bells are only there for the wringing
As we were bringing bullets for the new-born king
The trumpet sounds lamenting
Trampling down the blooms of the deceased
The double agent girl and the fallen priest were heading for the border
Somewhere at the high command there stayed the palest hand
That saw the order countermand
Erased a tape recorder and then they hung him from a window cord
Swallow down that voodoo vial to still your breath a while
Before we spill this tale that has been spun
And so I shall now confide all that I once denied
Oh I'm so sorry for the things I've done
O my eyes were filled with tears that were stinging
After our assassin's work was done
But hands and bells are only there for the wringing
As we were bringing bullet for the new-born king
Somewhere In Central America - 1951
