The Boy With the Gun

He knows well his wicked ways A course of bitterness A grudge held from his childhood days As if life had loved him less Reading down his list of names He ticks them one by one He points the barrel at the sky Firing shots off at the sun ("I am the law and I am the king") ("I am the wisdom, listen to me sing") He carves out the victim's names In the wooden butt of the gun He leans well back against the tree He knows his kingdom's come He'll breathe a sigh self-satisfied The work is in good hands He shoots the coins into the air And follows where the money lands ("I am the law and I am the king") ("I am the wisdom, listen to me sing") He pauses at the city's edge Of hellfire and of stone He summons up the devil there To give him courage of his own He'll free the sinners of deceit They'll hear his name and run His justice is his own reward Measured out beneath the sun ("I am the law and I am the king") and my name's on the gun ("I am the wisdom, listen to me sing") and my name's on the gun ("I am the law and I am the king") ("I am the wisdom, listen to me sing") The work has just begun For the boy with the gun (the boy with the gun) Ooh, ooh