And the little boy stared,
Into the eyes of the night,
Button collects price of his time,
Little girl glared,
Sheets of denial,
The Bullet connects to the price of her crime.
What have we said,
Wasn't it their bed,
What of our presence,
Haven't we payed penance.
Now the little boys sees,
Through the eyes of delight,
Levers erect note of his rhyme,
Little girl bled,
Sheets of the night,
The Lovers connect to the price of his dime.
What have we said,
Wasn't it their bed,
What of our presence,
Haven't we payed penance,
To the new guns, to the new guns.
What have we said,
Wasn't it their bed,
What of our presence,
Haven't we payed penance,
What have we said,
Wasn't it their bed,
What of our presence,
Haven't we payed penance,
To the new guns, to the new guns.