| In the here and now I wait
|
| Down among the young and the old
|
| Between the moon and the ground I play
|
| With my children in my home
|
| This is for the daughters and sons
|
| Of forgotten ones, learning how to stand
|
| This is for the innocent unknowns
|
| Buried in the sand
|
| I’m running from the sound of a gun
|
| Running from the sound of a gun
|
| Until I’m weary
|
| Running from the sound of a gun
|
| Running from the sound of a gun
|
| From the crack in the blackness I wake
|
| It’s getting closer every night
|
| And my city playground is a battleground
|
| Between the wrong and the right
|
| I could run free as a child, I was safe and wild
|
| Naked and unarmed
|
| Now I’m grown and safe in my home
|
| But some will never stop
|
| I’m running from the sound of a gun
|
| Running from the sound of a gun
|
| Until I’m weary
|
| Running from the sound of a gun
|
| Running from the sound of a gun
|
| The open mouth of the city
|
| Swallowed up the town
|
| With that same old concrete
|
| That I still walk down
|
| And it seems they put a shine
|
| On this place when I was young
|
| And baby, I just don’t see it now
|
| I’m running from the sound of a gun
|
| Running from the sound of a gun
|
| Until I’m weary
|
| Running from the sound of a gun
|
| Running from the sound of a gun
|
| I’m running from the sound of a gun
|
| Running from the sound of a gun
|
| Until I’m weary
|
| Running from the sound of a gun
|
| Running from the sound of a gun |