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Text for song:

Son of a Gun -live

Bruce Dickinson
Holy was the preacher
Riding high on his rig of steel in the rising sun
This was no grim reaper - but a man with a
Smile who took pride in a job well done
Ooh in a blood red sunrise
He's preaching conversion, as you lay down and die

A God given holy roller
In a God forsaken land
He didn't choose this killing ground
He didn't want this scrap of land
He's gonna scorch the earth
And make the rivers run dry
Until we learn to hate like him
To kill for killing – live to die

Ride on you son of a gun, Ride on,
ride into the setting sun

You gotta be a hero
For one last time
To prove through your destruction
Killing is a great way of life
There's a wooden cross somewhere
Where they'll bury you down deep
You lie to your people – you lie to yourself
You're in love with death – you've got no shame

The preacher laughed – the preacher cried
He loaded bullets as he smiled
The congregation sat and wondered would they live or
would they die?
Just an ordinary man – with his orders and his plans
In the shadows of a cross
Ooh in a blood red sunrise
Take me to Jesus – with Judas my guide

Chorus

Ride on you bleeding heart
Ride on you played no part
Ride on you feel no pity
Ride on you feel no pain
Ride into history