Son
of a Gun
(Bruce Dickinson /
Janick 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
In a blood red sunrise
He’s preaching
conversion
As you lay down and die
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
He’s gonna
scorch the earth
And make the river run dry
Until we learn to hate like
him
To kill for killing, live to
die
Ride on, you son of
a gun
Ride on, ride into the
setting sun
You gotta be a hero
For one last time
To prove through your
destruction
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
You’re in love with
death, you’ve got to
shame
The preacher laughed,
the preacher cried
He loaded bullets as he
smiled
The 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
In a blood red sunshine
Take me to Jesus, with Judas
as my guide
Ride on, you son of
a gun
Ride on, ride into the
setting sun
Ride on, you
bleeding heart
Ride on, you played no part
Ride on, you feel no pity
Ride on, you feel no pain
Ride into history...
Tattooed
Millionaire
(Bruce Dickinson /
Janick 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 you’re
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 P.R.
smiles
You and all your
entourage, to me you’re
all the same
You and all your entourage,
playing foolish games
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 a CD player and his
bottle of Jack
L.A. dudes, L.A.
attitude
Laid back selfish and getting
fat
Bodyguards, porn stars, gold
credit cards
Using each other, running for
cover
You and all your
entourage, to me you’re
all the same
You and all your entourage,
playing foolish games
I don’t want
your big city shining
I don’t want your silver
lining
I don’t wanna be a
tattooed millionaire
Born
in '58
(Bruce Dickinson /
Janick Gers)
Born in a mining
town in ’58
When black and white T.V. was
up to date
And men were still around
Who fought for freedom, stood
their grounds and died
That I could be alive
And see the damage that we’ve
managed since
In this sceptred isle
Is nothing sacred, but the
one square mile
Justice and liberty
You can buy, but you don’t
get free
In a world of steel and glass
We bury our past
On and on, we slept
‘til dawn
When we awoke, we hardly
spoke
My grandfather
taught me how to fight
Old fashion 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 T.V. was
up to date
And men were still around
Who fought for freedom, stood
their grounds and died
Justice and liberty
You can buy, but you don’t
get free
In a world of steel and glass
We bury our past
On and on, we slept
‘til dawn
When we awoke, we hardly
spoke
On and on, we slept
‘til dawn
When we awake, it was all the
same
Hell
on Wheels
(Bruce Dickinson /
Janick Gers)
Devil’s driving
down the track
Hell on wheels, they won’t
turn back
Engine racing down a one way
street
Speeds chasing that 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
Hard to steer when
the devil’s driving
Helen’s wheels and the
brakes won’t hold
Hard to steer when the devil’s
driving
Hell on wheels and the brakes
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
The doors were locked, the
windows sealed
Hitting me with the Jack was
the devil’s deal
Blue light flashing as the
lipstick smudge
Dived for over in a tunnel of
glove
Hard to steer when
the devil’s driving
Helen’s wheels and the
brakes won’t hold
Hard to steer when the devil’s
driving
Hell on wheels and the brakes
won’t hold
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, check it out
Hard to steer when
the devil’s driving
Helen’s wheels and the
brakes won’t hold
Hard to steer when the devil’s
driving
Hell on wheels and the brakes
won’t hold
Knuckle down, stick
shift, take it slow
Easy come means easy go
Lay off the gas, make it last
Cause under my hood, she’s
blowing fast
Into the blackness, into the
night
Out of the tunnels, into the
light
Red for danger, that’s
just for show
Climb aboard, come as you go
Hard to steer when
the devil’s driving
Helen’s wheels and the
brakes won’t hold
Hard to steer when the devil’s
driving
Hell on wheels and the brakes
won’t hold
Gypsy
Road
(Bruce Dickinson /
Janick 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
Tale about freedom, I’ll
take you where I think it is
Gypsy Road is the
highway that I run to
Gypsy Road, welcome to your
dreams
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 freedom, dream a
little everyday
Suddenly you’ll find
yourself there, follow me,
walk this way
Gypsy Road is the
highway that I run to
Gypsy Road, welcome to your
dreams
I’ll find my
dreams
You find yours, too
Dive!
Dive! Dive!
(Bruce Dickinson /
Janick Gers)
Put on opening shot
across your bows
Got tunnel vision, pull the
sheets in now
Let ‘em flap, let ‘em
rip
This man o’ war gonna
sink your ship
Gonna blow your
midships
Gonna dive tonight
There’s no release when
you’re deep down inside
Dive! Dive! Dive!
Dive! Dive! Dive!
Dive! Dive! Dive!
No muff, too tuff
We dive at five
Davy Jones, gonna
keep your bones
No monkey business, now you’re
on your own
Turn your stern and cover me
We’re rolling swell for
a seaman dog like me
Gonna dive tonight
There’s no release when
you’re deep down inside
Dive! Dive! Dive!
Dive! Dive! Dive!
Dive! Dive! Dive!
No muff, too tuff
We dive at five
Seaman Staines is
down below
Torpedoes loaded, ready to go
Wait for discharge, waiting
to release
As she rounded he horn, we
came up from below
Gonna dive tonight
There’s no release when
you’re deep down inside
Dive! Dive! Dive!
Dive! Dive! Dive!
Dive! Dive! Dive!
No muff, too tuff
We dive at five
All
the Young Dudes
(David Bowie)
Well Billy rapped
all night about his suicide
How he’d kick it in the
head when he was 25
Speed jive, don’t want
to stay alive when you’re
25
And Wendy’s stealing
clothes from Marks and Sparks
And Freddie’s got spots
from ripping off the start
from his fare
Funky little boatrace
Television map is
crazy, saying we’re
juvenile wrecks
Oh man, I need T.V.? When I
got T. Rex
Hey brother, you guessed I’m
a dude now
All the young dudes,
carry the news
Boogaloo dudes, carry the
news
Billy’s looking
sweet cause he dresses like a
queen
But he can kick like a mule,
it’s a real mean team
But we ca love, oh yes, we
can love
And my father’s back at
home with his Beatles and his
Stones
He’s never got off on
the revolution stuff
What a drag, too many snags
Well I drunk a lot
of wine and I’m feeling
fine
Gonna raise some cat to bed
Oh man, is that concrete all
around or is it in my head?
Brother, I’m a dude now
All the young dudes,
carry the news
Boogaloo dudes, carry the
news
Lickin'
the Gun
(Bruce Dickinson /
Janick Gers)
Lickin’ the gun,
lickin’ the hand that
feeds you
Lickin’ the gun, finger
lickin’ fun
Senator husband goin’
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
Kids today don’t
understand
Kids today need a guiding
hand
I get a sticker if it rhymes
with buck
When the suits fly, I guess I’ll
duck
Lickin’ the gun,
lickin’ the hand that
feeds you
Lickin’ the gun, finger
lickin’ fun
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 babies, lickin’
the gun
Ain’t political, just
having fun
Lickin’ the gun,
lickin’ the hand that
feeds you
Lickin’ the gun, finger
lickin’ fun
Eat it up, lay down
and die
They’ll shoot you up and
they don’t know why
They’re doing a job and
they enjoy it too
They’re 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
Lickin’ the gun,
lickin’ the hand that
feeds you
Lickin’ the gun, finger
lickin’ fun
Zulu
Lulu
(Bruce Dickinson /
Janick 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 know you're not wasting
mine
We came together over coffee
with milk
She never stopped till every
drop was spilt
She was a Zulu Lulu
Broke my back and my heart at
the same time
She was a Zulu Lulu
Had to move on and 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, "I like to
take a lay, preacher's advice"
I ain't looking for
sympathy
But prayers for the wicked
are always nice
She said, "I don't like
to preach to the converted"
I said, "You can be a
good girl more than twice"
She was a Zulu Lulu
Broke my back and my heart at
the same time
She was a Zulu Lulu
I had to move on and when I
came back, she’d gone
I ain't looking for
sympathy
But prayers for the wicked
are always nice
She looked me up and down and
said "Assegai for me"
I began to see God, she said,
"Wait and see, babe"
She was a Zulu Lulu
Broke my back and my heart at
the same time
She was a Zulu Lulu
Had to move on, when I came
back, she'd gone
No
Lies
(Bruce Dickinson)
No lies, no angels,
no heaven
No lies, no angels, no heaven
On a corner of a red
light street
Where the dealers and the
junkies and the graveyards
meet
By the light of a street
light moon
If you hang around here, babe,
you're leaving soon
On the run from the country,
from the law
Here's a safe place behind
every front door
Wanna wander where the guide
book doesn't go
Watching the windows, part of
the sideshow
No lies, no angels,
no heaven
No lies, no angels, no heaven
Where the money, men's
wallets bleed
Where the fat cat, sinners
fill their needs
Where the vicar goes for his
sin
Where the stick-up artist
gets stuck in
Take a look around here, it's
no big deal
For an ounce of pleasure or a
5 minute feel
Riding sidesaddle on a rented
machine
Hang on loosely, part of the
scene
No lies, no angels,
no heaven
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