|
Shots |
|
Ringing all along the borders |
|
can be heard |
|
Striking out |
|
like a venom in the sky |
|
Cutting through the air |
|
faster than a bird |
|
In the night. |
|
|
|
Children |
|
Are lost in the sand, |
|
building roads |
|
with little hands |
|
Trying to join |
|
their father's castles |
|
together again |
|
Will they make it? |
|
Who knows where or when |
|
Old wounds will mend? |
|
|
|
Machines |
|
Are winding their way along, |
|
looking strong |
|
Building roads |
|
and bringing back |
|
loads and loads |
|
Of building materials |
|
In the night |
|
|
|
Men |
|
Are trying to move the borders |
|
on the ground |
|
Lines between the different spots |
|
that each has found |
|
But back home |
|
another scene was going down |
|
In the night. |
|
|
|
Lust |
|
Comes creepin' through the night |
|
to feed on hearts |
|
Of suburban wives |
|
who learned to pretend |
|
When they met their dream's end |
|
In the night. |
|
|
|
Shots |
|
I hear shots, I keep hearing shots |
|
I keep hearing shots |
|
I hear shots. |
|
|
|
Shots |
|
I hear shots, I keep hearing shots |
|
I keep hearing shots |
|
I hear shots. |
|
|
|
But I'll never use your love, |
|
You know I'm not that kind |
|
And so if you give your heart away |
|
I promise to you |
|
Whatever we do |
|
That I will always be true. |
