Your sword's grown old [bad word] 
Underneath the rising sun
It's locked up like a trophy
Forgetting all the things it's done
And though its been a long time
You’re right back where you started from
I see it in your eyes
Now you’re giving up the gun

When I was 17
I had wrists like steel
And I [bad word] 
And now my body fades
Behind my brass charade
And I’m obsolete
But if the chance remains
To see those better days
I go to cannons now
My ears are blown to bits
From all the rifle hits
Still I crave that sound

Your sword's grown old [bad word] 
Underneath the rising sun
It's locked up like a trophy
Forgetting all the things it's done
And though its been a long time
You’re right back where you started from
I see it in your eyes
Now you’re giving up the gun

I heard you play guitar
Down at a seedy bar 
Where skinheads used to fight 
Your Tokugawa smile
And your garbage style 
Used to save the night
You felt [bad word] wave
Told me we'd all be brave 
You said you wouldn’t flinch
But in the years that passed
Since I saw you last
You haven’t moved an inch

Your sword's grown old [bad word] 
Underneath the rising sun
It's locked up like a trophy
Forgetting all the things it's done
And though its been a long time
You’re right back where you started from
I see it in your eyes
Now you’re giving up the gun
I see you shining your way
Go on go on go on