Take me down to the paradise city Where the grass is green And the girls are pretty Take me home (Oh, won't you please take me home?) Take me down to
your guns to town, son Leave your guns at home, Bill Don't take your guns to town He sang a song as on he rode His guns hung at his hips He rode into
He's Cadillac Jack Favor and the name rings true If he's got a ride any stranger would too The one bad habit that his Ponder would say Is sure gonna put
[Chorus - R. City] We come from a city where the young die So why don't we get to use and put'cha guns high About to lose that's the reason why we must
Can you feel the manmade mist As it starts to twist your lungs? Slower than guns Breathe deep As you enter sleep Fell secure it's all around you Can
You're so quiet But it doesn't faze me You're on time You move so fast, makes me feel lazy Let's join forces We've got our guns and horses I know you
To my mouth Frozen shut Mother's son Paper cup Belarus Belarus Belarus Belarus Pressing light Brighter sound Black and white Fading now Belarus Belarus
Come clean and off with your head The streams of bright rosy red Your heart will do the rest And you'll always fade You'll always fade Someday you'll
Our bodies break And the blood just spills and spills But here we sit debating math It's just a shame My hand just kills and kills There's gotta be an
We took our pills It changed the world We had our fill But when we realized That we were dragonflies We knew we had to try To find a way to get more
Dust on the window The sun's darkened angle Write your initials with mine At this time tomorrow I'll be just one day closer One sunset further behind
They put the treasure deep Inside us, inside us, inside us They thought the desert would Divide us, divide us, divide us With silence, with silence With
You be my Charlie and I can be your George Let's bury the hatchet Like the Beatles and the Stones They'll play our songs forever on the radio Let's bury
One more thing before I go One more thing I'll ask you Lord You may need a murderer Someone to do your dirty work Don't act so innocent I've seen you
All soldiers They're all gonna die And all the little babies They're all gonna die All the poets And all the liars And all you pretty people You're all
Where would you go If the gun fell in your hands? Home to the kids Or to sympathetic friends? Oh Sandinista, oh Sandinista Oh Sandinista, take my side
I've spent a lot of time, good people Trying to make it rhyme, good people It gave my mind a little place to hide If you don't like my lines, good people
All I can do is fight Even if I know you're right All I can do is fight Pretty fingers, holding fast Maybe it's your violent past Maybe it's your violent