2-Bullet Serenade

I don’t write love in a gentle hand, I carve my song in the desert sand. Every note I play’s a sharp refrain, A bullet’s hymn in a steel-string vein.

This bullet serenade, singin’ loud, Smoke in the sky, thunder in the crowd. No choir, no mercy, no soft parade, Just the truth I fire in a bullet serenade.

The preacher prays, but I can’t stay, My gospel’s written in the ricochet. Each shot I play’s a note that stays, A hymn of blood in the outlaw ways.

This bullet serenade, singin’ loud, Smoke in the sky, thunder in the crowd. No choir, no mercy, no soft parade, Just the truth I fire in a bullet serenade.

This bullet serenade, singin’ loud, Smoke in the sky, thunder in the crowd. No choir, no mercy, no soft parade, Just the truth I fire in a bullet serenade.

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