And we can run, from the backdrop of these gears and scalpels At every hour goes the tick-tock bang of monitors as They stared us down when we met in the emergency room And in our beds, I could hear you breathe with help from cold machines Every hour, on

Je te plumerai la, tete No way, bang your dead, here's your silhouette Bang your dead, alouette, here's your silhouette We're never gonna, believe in, the stories, that you're weavin' Bang, bang, bang No way, no, (the clock) it's ticking forward Un,

Sun sun sun sun We wait for the bus that's going to Bangor In my plaid dress and burgundy shoes In your red lipstick and lilac kercheif You're the most pretty lady in the world The bus driver smiles, a dime and a nickel We climb on our seats, the vinyl

Bang bang, you shot me down Bang bang, I hit the ground Bang bang, that awful sound Bang bang, my baby shot me down I was five and you were six We rode on horses made of sticks I wore black, you wore white You would always win the fight Seasons came and

Bang bang, he shot me down Bang bang, I hit the ground Bang bang, that awful sound Bang bang, my baby shot me down I was five and he was six We rode on horses made of sticks He wore black and I wore white He would always win the fight

Boom boom tap, boom boom tap Tick tick bang, tick tick bang Tick tick bang, bang bang bang Boom, boom, tap Boom, boom, boom, tap Tick tick bang Tick tick bang

Hang around a lot of gang bangin' ass niggas Crip, Blood, blue or red, what you bang, nigga? You might got a pistol but this stick is way bigger I call it KKK, 'cause my choppa hate niggas Issa Nightmare on Elm Street A Nightmare on Elm Street I can show

Bang bang, you shot me down Bang bang, I hit the ground Bang bang, that awful sound Bang bang, my baby shot me down I was five and you were six We rode on horses made of sticks I wore black, you wore white You would always win the fight Seasons came and

Bang bang, that awful sound Bang bang, he shot me down Bang bang, I hit the ground Bang bang, my baby shot me down I was five and he was six We rode on horses made of sticks He wore black and I wore white He would always win the fight Seasons came and