| Your sword’s grown old and rusty
|
| Burnt beneath the rising sun
|
| It’s locked up like a trophy
|
| Forgetting all the things it’s done
|
| And though it’s been a long time
|
| You’re right back where you started from
|
| I see it in your eyes
|
| That now you’re giving up the gun
|
| When I was seventeen, I had wrists like steel
|
| And I felt complete
|
| And now my body fades behind a brass charade
|
| And I’m obsolete
|
| But if the chance remained to see those better days
|
| I’d cut the cannons down
|
| My ears are blown to bits from all the rifle hits
|
| But still I crave that sound
|
| Your sword’s grown old and rusty
|
| Burnt beneath the rising sun
|
| It’s locked up like a trophy
|
| Forgetting all the things it’s done
|
| And though it’s been a long time
|
| You’re right back where you started from
|
| I see it in your eyes
|
| That now you’re giving up the gun
|
| I heard you play guitar down at a seedy bar
|
| Where skinheads used to fight
|
| Your Tokugawa smile and your garbage style
|
| Used to save the night
|
| You felt the coming wave, told me we’d all be brave
|
| You said you wouldn’t flinch
|
| But in the years that passed, since I saw you last
|
| You haven’t moved an inch
|
| Your sword’s grown old and rusty
|
| Burnt beneath the rising sun
|
| It’s locked up like a trophy
|
| Forgetting all the things it’s done
|
| And though it’s been a long time
|
| You’re right back where you started from
|
| I see it in your eyes
|
| That now you’re giving up the gun
|
| I see you shine in your way
|
| Go on, go on, go on
|
| I see you shine in your way
|
| Go on, go on, go on
|
| I see you shine in your way
|
| Go on, go on, go on
|
| I see you shine in your way
|
| Go on, go on, go on
|
| I see you shine in your way
|
| Go on, go on, go on
|
| I see you shine in your way
|
| Go on, go on, go on
|
| (I see you shine in your way
|
| Go on, go on, go on
|
| I see you shine in your way
|
| Go on, go on, go on)
|
| Your sword’s grown old and rusty
|
| Burnt beneath the rising sun
|
| It’s locked up like a trophy
|
| Forgetting all the things it’s done
|
| And though it’s been a long time
|
| You’re right back where you started from
|
| I see it in your eyes
|
| That now you’re giving up the gun |