I can hear the sound coming out of them
But I don't seem to be able to comprehend
I can feel their bullets fly through me
But I think I've decided they don't work on me
And I guess I should thank you, by the way
For helping me, me, to open my head
And I guess I should thank you
For letting it all out, for showing me the way to be free
To be free [To be free], to be free
To be free, to be free
To be free, to be free
Sweeping broad strokes with my lathe of heaven
Paint right over every last trace
Sweeping broad strokes with my lathe of heaven
Paint right over every last trace
I can hear the sound coming out of them
But I don't seem to be able to comprehend
I can feel their bullets fly through me
But I think I've decided they don't work on me
And I guess I should thank you, by the way
For helping me, me, to open my head
And I guess I should thank you
For helping me letting all that to get out
Sweeping broad strokes with my lathe of heaven
Paint right over every last trace
Sweeping broad strokes with my lathe of heaven
Paint right over every last trace
Sweeping broad strokes with my lathe of heaven
Paint right over every last trace
Every last trace
'Cause I've decided there's nothing else but you and me
'Cause I've decided there's nothing else but you and me