Bullet The Blue Sky (Live From The Fleet Center, Boston, MA, USA / 2001)

In the howling wind comes a stinging rain
See it driving nails into souls on the tree of pain

From a firefly, a red orange glow
I see the face of fear running scared in the valley
Below

Sky
Sky
Bullet the blue sky (Sky)
Bullet the blue sky (Sky)
Bullet the blue (Sky)
Bullet the blue (Sky)

In a locust wind comes a rattle and hum
Jacob wrestled the angel, the angel was overcome
You plant a demon seed, you raise a flower of fire

I see them burning crosses, see the flames higher
And higher

Sky
Sky
Bullet the blue sky (Sky)
Bullet the blue sky (Sky)
Bullet the blue (Sky)
Bullet the blue (Sky)

Shoot my heart, oh uh
What a whole lot of love

This guy comes up to me saying
His face red like a rose on a thorn bush
Like all the colours of a royal flush
And he’s peeling off those dollar bills
Slapping them down
Right there in the WalMart
Slapping em right down

One hundred
Two hundred
Three… hundred…
That’s all, that’s all

And I can feel the cold steel
I can feel the cold steel
And I can make a wound that won’t heal
I can make a wound that won’t heal
38 millimeters like the police
I’m at the door where John and Yoko live in love and
Peace
In love and peace
In love and peace
Feel like an old shoe
A rerelease
Soon to be deceased

Pull the trigger, the rock and roll
He’s bigger than Jesus on a bumper sticker
Pull the trigger on the rock and roll
Bigger than Jesus on a bumper sticker

My pulse is pacing
My eyes are chasing
For an autograph, I’ve been waiting
Beatle baiting
There’s no escaping
History is taping

Hey John…
War is over we don’t need your help
America’s making war on itself
War is over we don’t need your help
America’s making war on itself
Six hundred and seventy six thousand
Will go down in the streets of America
With a bullet in the next 20 years
20 years, these bitter tears
In a business of bitter tears

John…
(Can you hear us calling?)
More bodybags than Vietnam
What’s my name?
Mark Chapman
What’s my name?
Mark Chapman
Mark Chapman
Mark Chapman
Mark Chapman
Mark Chapman

And we run
Into the arms
Of America