Lyrics
Theres a gun here in the bed
and were both cold and afraid
Nothing can get us out of this trouble
Out of luck and out at sea,
We have it on good authority
Pretty soon we will get used to being a number
Theres a lump here in the bed
Skin of metal, heart of lead
And nothing can get me out of this trouble
Out of mind and out of need,
we have it on good authority
pretty soon we will get used to being numbered
Cry all you want
Dont you know this time
its for real
Theres a crowd here in my head,
Some are screaming,
Some have fled,
And nothing can save me from getting trumpled
We are meant to pay a fee
Seven hundred and thirty
Days of being small and scared,
Of being outnumbered
Cry all you want,
Dont you know this time
its for real
3506603
Theres a gun here in the bed,
can we all go home instead
Is it better to lie still
Keep real quiet
And play dead
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