Текст песни
Bullet the blue sky, and i can see those fighter planes, his face red like a rose on a thorn bush
And i can see those fighter planes, see the rain comin through the gapin wound Cheese, and i can see those fighter planes
Outside is america, bullet the blue sky
From the firefly, see across the field
bullet the blue sky
We see them burnin crosses, bullet the blue
Bullet the blue, bullet the blue, and through the walls you hear the city groan
Bullet the blue sky, we turn the key and slowly unlock the door
like all the colours of a royal flush
In the locust wind, up the staircase to the first floor
see the rain comin through the gapin wound
Runnin scared in the valley below, see across the field Sky, suit and tie comes up to me
See the rain comin through the gapin wound, bullet the blue
a red orange glow
Bullet the blue, we turn the key and slowly unlock the door
bullet the blue sky
As a man breathes into his saxophone, his face red like a rose on a thorn bush
As a man breathes into his saxophone, see it drivin nails
A red orange glow, through the alleys of a quiet city street, as a man breathes into his saxophone
Outside is america, howlin the women and children, we turn the key and slowly unlock the door
Across the mud huts as children sleep, bullet the blue sky, bullet the blue sky
Jacob wrestled the angel, as a man breathes into his saxophone The, across the mud huts as children sleep
outside is america
like all the colours of a royal flush
Up the staircase to the first floor, bullet the blue sky
Through the alleys of a quiet city street, you raise a flower of fire, bullet the blue sky
like all the colours of a royal flush
Across the mud huts as children sleep, comes a stingin rain
Up the staircase to the first floor, across the mud huts as children sleep
Who run into the arms of america, and i can see those fighter planes
Across the mud huts as children sleep, we turn the key and slowly unlock the door The, see the sky ripped open
And he s peelin off those dollar bills, in the howlin wind, his face red like a rose on a thorn bush
Outside is america, see the rain comin through the gapin wound, higher and higher
Across the mud huts as children sleep, bullet the blue
Bullet the blue, slappin em down
We see them burnin crosses, see it drivin nails The, runnin scared in the valley below
his face red like a rose on a thorn bush