Green hills and enemies —
These things, they make us sentimental inside.
Your words are gelignite,
Or just another sentimental aside.
We're catching bullets in our teeth;
And, though it's easy if you know how it's done,
They split the secret up six ways,
Before they gave it to us just before dawn.
And now we don't remember.

Our blood and guts are out,
We spread our bones across the table at night.
We cut our fingers off
To give ourselves those little extra insights.
We're catching bullets in our teeth,
And, though they try hard not to say how it's done,
They always do.
They spill the secret out six ways,
And beg for our forgiveness
Just before dawn.
And now we don't remember.

We're catching bullets in our teeth;
It's hard to do but they taste sweet,
And if they take a couple out,
We try to work things out.
We're catching bullets with our
Heads, and hearts, and all the darkest parts of us.
It's strange to find such light
In such endless night.

So sweet to lose a friend.
You leave the church and taste
The air in your lungs.
Old lies and fireflies
Carve angels on your eyes,
And all is undone.
You whisper prayers into the dark,
Up to a god in whom you've never believed.
You always do.
You split the secret up six ways,
But it won't make it any easier to see.
And now we don't remember.

We're catching bullets in our teeth;
It's hard to do but they're so sweet,
And if they take a couple out,
We try to work things out.
We're catching bullets with our
Heads, and hearts, and all the darkest parts of us —
It's strange to find such light
In such endless night.

We're catching bullets in our backs,
We sent the undertaker back
Into the garden in the drought,
To try to work things out.
We're catching bullets with the best
Resources that we've got.
We're happy, then again, we're not.
We shout — through the endless doubt.

Na-na-na-na na-na...