Hands On Guns

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You kept running cos it was all a lie.

You kept threatening to poke out my eyes.

You kept running cos you would never try.



So in the old town sun stood your silhouette,

hands on your guns and brow full of sweat.

It`s such a pity that this city couldn`t hold us both inside.



And as the sun shone down,

over your bullit-ridden bones,

there was talk of the Son and Heir,

whilst i sat there on the throne.



You can`t battle the lie, you can`t battle.



You kept walking through my house at night,

You kept threating to fuse all the lights,

You kept walking through my walls at night.



So in the old town moon stood my exorcist.

Bible in hand, holy water in fist.

Did you expect that with your spectre you could run me out of town?



And as the moon shone down,

over your bullit-ridden bones,

All talk of the Son and Heir,

whilst i`m sat there on the throne.



You can`t battle the lie,

you can`t battle the lie,

you can`t battle the lie,

you can`t battle.

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