Fiery Gun Hand

Sacred patience and a short silence
And we will be sure as eggs is eggs
That Jesus'll hold his fiery hand to the gun

And together we'll blow him
To the ends of the earth
To the ends of the earth
See he has no lines on the sore palms of his hands
On the palms of his

He went off dead
He went off dead with his hand
With his his big gun fire hand
Big gun fire hand in his mouth, in his hand

And puts a big gun up inside of his mouth
And he fires 'til he cries
A bullet, his gullet, and he fires 'til he cries
Up inside 'til he

Click, run
"Hello sir, I'm in a tango in a different timing
I will never lose my anger, I haven't got a secret
Secrets are in my secret box down my avenue
Suck away my tiny dress
I'm cleaner than a filthy mess
Cleaner than a big mess

Sacred patience and a short silence
And we will be sure as eggs is eggs
That Jesus'll hold his fiery hand to the gun

And together we'll blow him
To the ends of the earth
To the ends of the earth
And he has no lines on the sore palms of his hands
On the palms of his

Click, run
"Hello sir, I'm in a tango in a different timing
I will never lose my anger, I haven't got a secret
Secrets are in my secret box down my avenue
Suck away my tiny dress
I'm cleaner than a filthy mess
Cleaner than a big mess



Credits
Writer(s): Tim Smith
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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