Here Come the Bullets

Tick, tick goes the clock in the engine of my brain.

Sick, sick of the lies while we're sleeping with the pain.

And everybody's talking in their own ways. Wishing they were dying,

they could find a better place. I'm getting fed up. Up.

I won't play this game. I'm getting fed up. Up.

I'm going insane. Here come the bullets, dancing in the sky.

Here come the bullets, laughing at the blind. Here come the

bullets, it's time to say goodbye. Here come the bullets.