(B. Dickinson/ J. Gers)
Holy was the preacher. Riding on his rig of steel in the rising sun. This was no grim reaper. But a man with a smile who took a pride in a job well done. Ohh, in a blood red sunrise. He's preaching conversion as you lay down and die. Just a god given holy roller. In a god forsaken land. He didn't choose this killing ground. He didn't want this scrap of land. You've got to scorch the earth, yeah. and make the rivers run dry. Until we learn to hate like him. Kill for killing'. Live to die. CHORUS: Ride on you son of a gun Ride on. Ride into the setting sun. Ride on you son of a gun You've gotta be a hero, for one last time. To prove through your destruction. That killing is a great way of life. There's a wooden cross somewhere. Where they'll bury you down deep. You lie to your people, You lie to yourself. Your in love with death babe. You've got no shame. REPEAT CHORUS The preacher laughed. The preacher cried. He loaded bullets as he smiled. Congregation sat and wondered. Would they live or would they die. Just an ordinary man, with his orders and his plans. In the shadows of a cross. Oh in a blood red sunrise. Take me to Jesus, with Judas my guide. REPEAT CHORUS Ride on your bleeding heart. Ride on you play no part. Ride on you feel no pity. Ride on you feel no pain. Ride into history.
(B. Dickinson/ J. Gers)
Tattooed boys with expensive toys. Living in a bubble of sin. Money can buy you most of anything. Fix your nose or the mess your in. Front page news you can share your views. With a population that wants to be like you. Out on the strip. Out on the tiles. Same old greed behind the PR smiles. You and all your entourage. To me your all the same. You and all your entourage. Playing foolish games. CHORUS: I don't want your big city shining. I don't want your silver lining. I don't wanna be a tattooed millionaire. He's got a wife, she ain't no brain child. Ex mud queen of Miami. In his stretch Cadillac, he keeps her in the back. With his CD player and his bottle of Jack. LA dude. LA Attitude. Laid back, selfish and getting fat. Body guards, Porn Stars, Gold credit cards. Using each other. Running for cover. REPEAT CHORUS
(B. Dickinson/ J. Gers)
Born in a mining town in '58. When black and white TV was up to date. And men where still around. Who fought for freedom. Stood their ground and died. That I could be alive and see the damage, that we've managed since. In this septed isle. Is nothing sacred. Just a one square mile. CHORUS: Justice and Liberty. You can buy what you don't get free. In a world of steel and glass. We bury our past. On and On. We slept till dawn. When we awoke, we hardly spoke. My grandfather taught me how to fight. Old fashioned stuff like wrong and right. But all around I see his morals buried in a mess Of money troubles, Born in a mining town in '58. When black and white TV was up to date. And men where still around. Who fought for freedom, stood their ground and died. REPEAT CHORUS On and On. We slept till dawn. When we awoke, it was, all the same.
(B. Dickinson/ J. Gers)
Devil's driving down the track. Hell on wheels and it won't turn back. Engine racing down a one way street. Speed wheel chasing in a red line heat. Into the blackness. Into the night. Out of the tunnel. Into the light. Red for danger. That's just for show. Climb aboard. Come as you go. CHORUS: Hard to steer when the devil's driving. Helens wheels and the brake's won't hold. Hard to steer when the devil's driving. Hell on wheels and the brake's won't hold. Too smart to come she just arrived. Only gave her one but she's using five. Minutes of time in the usual place. If I was strapped in you could sit on my place. (face) The door's were locked. The windows sealed. Hitting me with the jack was the devil's deal. Blue light flashing as the lipstick smudge. Diving for cover in a tunnel of glove. REPEAT CHORUS Something's driving me. I don't know where. Something down in my cellar somewhere. No one waiting for me down the line. No one waiting for me this time. REPEAT CHORUS Knuckle Down, Stick Shift, Take it slow. Easy come means easy go. Lay off the gas, make it last. Cuz under my hood she's blowing' fast. Into the blackness. Into the night. Out of the tunnel. Into the light. Red for danger that's just for show. Climb aboard. Come as you go. REPEAT CHORUS
(B. Dickinson/ J. Gers)
Living in the city can be a cold and lonely place to be. Living in the shadows where there is no sun there is no breeze. Drinking stale water, having to pay for the privilege. Talk about your freedom. I'll take you where I think it is. CHORUS: Gypsy road. Is the highway that I run to. Gypsy road. Welcome to your dreams. Oh oh oh, Gypsy road. Living by my own rules. A rebel yell and a rebel creed. Keep your life simple. Try not to take what you don't need. Think about your freedom. Dream a little every day. Suddenly you'll find yourself there. Follow me. Walk this way. REPEAT CHORUS I'll find my dreams. You find yours too.
(B. Dickinson/ J. Gers)
Put and opening shot across your bows.
Got tunnel vision, pull the sheets in now.
Let 'em flap, let 'em rip.
This man of war gonna sink your ship
Gonna blow you midships.
Gonna dive tonight.
There's no release when your deep down inside.
Davey Jones gonna keep your bones.
No monkey business. Now your on your own.
Turn your stern and cover me.
We're rolling swell. Just an old sea dog like me.
Gonna blow you midships.
Gonna dive tonight.
There's no release till your deep down inside.
CHORUS:
Dive! Dive! Dive!
Dive! Dive! Dive!
Dive! Dive! Dive!
No muff too tuff.
We dive at five.
Seamen Staines is down below.
Torpedoes loaded. He's ready to go.
Wait to discharge. Waiting to release.
I see where the bones came up from below.
Gonna blow you midships.
Gonna dive tonight.
There's no release till your deep down inside.
REPEAT CHORUS
(D. Bowie)
Well Billy rapped all night about his suicide. Said he could kick it in the head when he was 25. Speed jive. Don't wanna stay alive when your 25. And Wendy's stealing clothes from Marks And Sparks. And Freddie's got spots from ripping of the stars. From his face. Funky little boat race. The television man is crazy. Saying we're juvenile delequent wrecks. I need TV when I got T-Rex? Oh brother you guessed I'm a dude now. CHORUS: All the young dudes. Carry the news. Bugaloo dudes. Carry the news. Well Billy's looking sweat cuz he dresses like a queen. But he can kick like a mule it's a real mean team. But we can love. Ahh yes. We can love. And my father's back at home with his Beatles and his Stones. He never got it off with that revolution stuff. What a drag. Too many snags. Well I drunk a lot of wine and I'm feeling fine. I'm gonna raise some kind of bet. Oh man, is this concrete all around or is it in my head. Brother, I'm a dude now. REPEAT CHORUS
(B. Dickinson/ J. Gers)
Licking the gun licking the hand that feeds you. Licking the gun finger licking fun. Licking the gun licking the hand that feeds you. Licking the fun finger licking fun. Senator husband going for broke. I've gotta prove I'm not a joke. We smoked the stuff in '69. Now it's different. It's a crime. Kid's today don't understand. Kid's today need a guiding hand. Put a sticker if it rhymes with truck. When the law should slide, guess I'll duck. REPEAT CHORUS Watch religion come and go. Watch corruption on their shows. Buy your silence, Money for blood. Out of the ark and into the flood. Crazy men with Russian guns. My words never killed anyone. Kissing Baby's. Licking the gun. Ain't political. Just having fun. REPEAT CHORUS Eat it up lay down and die. They'll shoot you up. And they don't know why. Their doing a job and they enjoy it too. Their protecting us from me and you. We smoked the stuff in '69. Now it's different. It's a crime. I don't care to wait and see. If I'm cool enough to make history. REPEAT CHORUS
(B. Dickinson/ J. Gers)
She fixed me in the corner with that beautiful brown eye. She said I'd like to meet you I was so surprised. Well, what can I do for you. What can you do for me. We made for the exit had to wait and see. I hope I'm not wasting your precious time. I no your not wasting mine. We came together over coffee with milk. She never stopped till every drop was spilled. CHORUS: She was a Zulu lulu. Broke my back and my heart at the same time. It was nice. Just a Zulu lulu. I had to move on when I came back she'd gone. She dropped to her knees. I guess she had religion. She lived with her mother. Had been a good girl twice. When I asked her to comment on her present position. She said she'd like to take a late preachers advise. I ain't looking for sympathy. But prayers for the wicked are kinda nice. She said I don't like to preach to the converted. I said you could be a good girl more than twice. Like this. REPEAT CHORUS I ain't looking for sympathy. But prayers for the wicked are kinda nice. She looked me up and down and said Assiagod for me. I began to see god. She said, wait and see babe. Wait. Wait. I'm coming. REPEAT CHORUS
(B. Dickinson)
CHORUS: No lies. No angels. No heaven. oh, oh, oh, oh. No lies. No angels. No heaven. oh, oh, oh, oh. No lies. No angels. No heaven. oh, oh, oh, oh. Waiting on a corner on a red light street. Were the dealers and the junkies and the graveyards meet. By the light of a street light moon. If you hang around here Babe your leaving soon. On the run from the country from the law. Well, here's a safe place behind every front door. Wanna wonder where the guidebook doesn't go. Watching the windows. Part of the side show. REPEAT CHROUS Where the money mends wallets bleed. Where the fat cat sinners go for his needs. Where the vicar goes for his sins. Where the stick up artists get stuck in. Look around here it's no big deal. For an ounce of pleasure or a five minute feel. Riding side saddle on a rented machine. Hang on loosely. Part of the scene. REPEAT CHORUS