Текст песни John Wesley Harding - Scared of Guns
John Wesley Harding - Scared of Guns слова песни
Well, the power of the bullet is fascinatingTheyre polishing the luga facsimilesThe little kids grow up imitatingCowboys shoot indians before pubertyDont get me to the battle on timeId be useless in the front lineDont point that thing at meYou know Im scared of gunsYou can argue, say its harmlessIn the nightmare fairground galleryWere all under pain of deathTo keel right over gracefullyI ached to be a uniform manAnd toss that baton in a marching bandDont point that thing at meYou know Im scared of gunsIm scared of guns, theyre out of your handsIm scared of guns, they might go bangIm scared of guns, hey joe, theyre out of controlIm scared of guns, fear eat the soulDont shoot meI wanna put flowers in the barrelsLike the famous photo, understandThat Id rather get hit on the headThat hold cold metal in my handThe new arrival, the latest additionThe little boys running out of ammunitionDont point that thing at meYou know Im scared of guns