The yellow sun Well, it took the hand Of a country boy To a city in a land
We made no mark No at all On the ancient, holy streets Where I learned to crawl
The broken and the bruised The young and the used The sure and confused All here
Words will then land on me Then abandon me Mangle, untangle me Leave on the floor Rhymes, they sprang in me sang in me But summer sings in me no more
Now I'm twenty-five And trying to stay alive In a corner of the world no clear enemies to fight
It's hot as hell We're like butter on toast But there's no army in this world That can fight a ghost
The broken and the bruised The young and the used The sure and confused All here
Words will then on me Then abandon me Leave me stranded In guard of the Rhymes began in me Summer sang in me But summer sings in me no more
Listening to the cries The strangers The silence of the foreign grave Listening to the thunder The is strange Stretched over everyone Listening to the tales The child That goes for days and days Listening to the calls Shouts, frustration
At twenty-one I was born a son And on day I knew I could kill
To protect the ones We put bullets in guns Or anything it takes To take a life until it's still