Take these silver bullets, I don't need them nownWell I ran through this canyon, and they're weighing me downnSentimental words are for the pigs and cowsnWe're not allowed to find our fillnnKilling times were not that badnThey kept us locked inside our headsnAnd after beating back the dreadnWe had to laugh cause every grain of sandnHad a supporting hand in what was saidnnAnd I saidnThat you're deadnAnd you deny itnnKilling floor had metal slabsnThe blood we lost fell through the cracksnThe crowd that formed below us clappednTheir faces blank, and we just sat in linenAnd thought of better times, before the endnnBefore you leftnBefore you saidnThat you were faking itnnAnd then I saidnYou're deadnAnd I saidnThat I was lying too