In the howling [bad word] a stinging rain
See it driving nails into souls on the tree of pain
From the firefly the red orange glow
I see a face of [bad word] scared in the valley below

The sky
The sky
Bullet the blue sky
Bullet the blue sky
Bullet the blue sky
Bullet the blue sky

In the locust [bad word] a rattle and hum
Jacob wrestled the angel and the angel was [bad word] You plant a demon seed, you raise a flower of fire
I see them burning crosses, see the flames, higher and higher

The sky
The sky
Bullet the blue sky
Bullet the blue sky
Bullet the blue sky
Bullet the blue sky

I shoot my heart
What a whole lotta love

This [bad word] up to me, you see
His face red like a rose on a thorn bush
Like all the colours of a royal flush
And he's peeling off those dollar bills
Slapping them down right there in the Wal Mart
Slapping them right down
One hundred, two hundred, three hundred
That's all, that's all
But I can feel the cold steel
I can feel the cold steel
I can make a wound that won't heal
I can make a wound that won't heal
.38 mm like the police
I'm at the door with John and Yoko living love and peace
And love and peace and love and peace
Feel like an old shoe, a re-release
Soon to be deceased
Pull the trigger, the rock 'n' roll [bad word] He's bigger than Jesus on a bumper sticker
Pull the trigger, the rock 'n' roll [bad word] Bigger than Jesus on a bumper sticker
My pulse is racing, my eyes are chasing
For an autograph, I've been waiting
People fading, there's no escaping
History's fading
Hey John, war is over
We don't need your help
America's making war on itself
War is over
We don't need your help
America's making war on itself
Six-hundred and seventy-six thousand
Will go down in the streets of America
With a bullet in the next twenty years
Twenty years, these bitter tears
In a business of bitter tears, John
Give us a call
Body bags and Vietnam
What's my name
Mark Chapman
What's my name
Mark Chapman
Mark Chapman
Mark Chapman
Mark Chapman
Mark Chapman
And [bad word] into the arms of America