Bullet: I'm just a cool handed fool gonna ride it out with the sun/ Now i'm to crawl through the fold and the curls of the human mind/ 'Cuz i'm in a world of marching soldiers and who am i?! Bullet for guns through the door and retires and it fades away/ With three little colours lying in the gutter/ they're lying in the heart/ they're still aching from my dream/ but the feel of a Bullet cold until it finds the hole. (I am not responsible for this material)