Lletres: The Devil Makes Three. The Bullet.

Well he opened up his shop at the age of nineteen
Stealing anything the eye could see
Said gather round, you people, anything you need
I'll keep my name on your lips
And put the word out on the street

And I will ride til my fingers, they are down to the bone
Wander til I can't remember my own home
Drink til I don't know the meaning of alone
Until that bullet flies to carry me home

'til that bullet flies that bullet flies that bullet flies
That bullet flies that bullet flies to carry me home
'til that bullet flies that bullet flies that bullet flies
That bullet flies that bullet flies to carry me home

Well he never, ever smiled but he always seemed pleased
Said I'll never live down upon my bended knees
Said I see the game and the game, it sees me
And we will dance until they bury me

So I will rise like the ashes from a building as it burns
Screaming at my enemies you'll all have your turn
The more pain I feel, the less that it hurts
The more I move on, the more I am sure

That I will ride til my fingers, they are down to the bone
Wander til I can't remember my own home
Drink til I don't know the meaning of alone
Until that bullet flies to carry me home

'til that bullet flies, that bullet flies, that bullet flies
That bullet flies, that bullet flies to carry me home
'til that bullet flies, that bullet flies, that bullet flies
That bullet flies, that bullet flies to carry me home