Everywhere You've BeenMore Like This
Get out of the crib, walk down the hall
Past the paintings on the wall
You want to get to know them all
Get out paper and pen, write a wishlist
Of all the doors you want to walk through, that and this
You know that there are so many that you miss
Get into the bed, look back at all the places you've been
Some that you love, others you hate; either frown or grin
As you fall asleep, are you proud of where you have been?
Nine bulletsNine bullets it took, to kill the good priestMore Like This
as he lay glistening in the sun.
took his pills one by one
'til they fired and broke through the skin of his belly
while the little ones choked on the flesh in his cell yeah and the prophets were smoked
and the holy robes soaked in red tears streaming out of his chest.
Nine bullets it took!
'fore the man of the book buckled down and began to pray
through the rusty old pipe that his throat was, decayed, shot a sound, harsh and frayed, as his life was unmade and his rapture betrayed "Oh God!" did he say while in the gutter he laid, full of holes, "my debt is repaid."
Nine bullets were taken by a man of the lord
while the angel stood shaken, his hand on his sword
this man had denied his heavenly ride before death could untie his heavy burdens of pride