Bullets, My Only Weakness Songtext

The sun getting old
The fields glowing gold
heartless on the left
Thoughtless on the right
Creaking and grinding up to the road, through knee high grain, hundreds of them, shaking the ground, axes and oil cans in hand.
Running so quickly, without a sound, light like blowing leaves, out from the tree line.
With ropes at the necks, wrists and feet to hold in their hay.
They converged on the pavement at dusk, and began their attack
Some turned back with fear in their eyes
Some tried to sneak through the line