Heaven inside us,
And I know it must colide in,
Don't trust anyone, that's what you've said to me
And now I don't keep it down in my mind
Hands on my guns, and if you cross
You must die...
I haven't been a good boy (good boy)
This time I must confess (this I must confess)
I haven't been a good boy (bad bad boy)
But relax, this time it is for real
No come backs, we're going down the hill
Dead Caravaggio avec Renoir on melting silver clocks
Cold joust, upholst my bones with broken self esteem
And since I don't have no doubt in my mind
With your hands on my guts
The gentle touch of pale confidence
I haven't been a good boy (good boy)
This time I must confess (this I must confess)
I haven't been a good boy (bad bad boy)
But relax, this time it is for real
No come backs, we're going down the hill
When I was young my mother told me
Good boys dont ever play with guns,
When I was young my mother told me
Well I guess this time it is for real,
No come backs, we're going down the hill...
And now, the waltzing Matilda will do the waltz
One more time for me, and just for this time,
Just cuz' I want you to swing around, swing around!
All right!