Lyrics

So many on the outside and even more that want in. They stand in such a straight line a single bullet could kill them. We could watch the blood spill from the back to the top. Those soldiers charging uphill are all about to get shot. Can you be my supplier? Be my saint in the fire? No one will love you 'til I make you a victim. You won't love you 'til I make you a victim. So while we're waiting let me make you a victim. They're all laying in the gorge. Somebody best call their wives. I heard one shout, "Oh my Lord, we should have ran for our lives!"