when they've got too many gunsnmy son, you've got to runnwhen you've stopped feeling guiltnyou'll know the time has comenthe pebble to Goliathnhas become obsoletenit'd take a thousand slingsnjust to knock him off his feetnnleft, right, center, c'mon nownleft, right, center, c'monnnyou would be a martyrnif you only had a causenso many dead now that there'snno one left to lean onnnwhen you're backed up to the wallnc'mon and listen to my callnyour sins brought you herensix feet's how far you'll fallnpick a place, the perfect placenthe place they'll least expectnthe jaws of Hell are open widenbut they don't have you yet