Band Of Gypsys (Jimi Hendrix, Billy Cox, Buddy Miles) - Machine Gun | Текст песни

• Тексты песен
• Band Of Gypsys (Jimi Hendrix, Billy Cox, Buddy Miles)
• Machine Gun

Machine gun
Tearing my body all apart

Machine gun, yeah
Tearing my body all apart

Evil man make me kill ya
Evil man make you kill me
Evil man make me kill you
Even though were only families apart

Well I pick up my axe and fight like a bomber
(you know what I mean)
Hey! and your bullets keep knocking me down

Hey, I pick up my axe and fight like a bomber now
Yeah, but you still blast me down to the ground

The same way you shoot me down, baby
Youll be going just the same
Three times the pain,
And your own self to blame
Hey, machine gun

I aint afraid of your mess no more, babe
I aint afraid no more
After a while, your, your cheap talk dont even cause me pain,
So let your bullets fly like rain

cause I know all the time youre wrong baby
And youll be going just the same
Yeah, machine gun
Tearing my family apart
Yeah, yeah, alright
Tearing my family apart

(dont you shoot him down)
(hes bout to leave here)
(dont you shoot him down)
(hes got to stay here)
(he aint going nowhere)
(hes been shot down to the ground)
(oh where he cant survive, no, no)

Yeah, thats what we dont wanna hear anymore, alright?
(no bullets)
At least here, huh huh
(no guns, no bombs)
Huh huh
(no nothin, just lets all live and live)
(you know, instead of killin)

May this be
Love or just
Confusion born out of
Frustration wracked
Feelings - of not
Being able to
Make true physical
Love to the
Universal gypsy queen
True, free expressed music
Darling guitar please
Rest. amen

Band Of Gypsys (Jimi Hendrix, Billy Cox, Buddy Miles) еще тексты