| He gambles on the saddle
|
| He’s pulling at the mane
|
| He thrashes at the horse’s back
|
| Ambition is a bloody game
|
| Horse doesn’t want to jump
|
| The river looks too wide
|
| Well he faces every hurdle
|
| With a nervous state of mind
|
| «Stay with me, breathe deeply
|
| Take three paces back
|
| Turn and make a full attack»
|
| The gods are laughing
|
| And they’re tugging at the reins
|
| But they’ve taken to their wings
|
| And they hit the bank
|
| Heaven may stone him
|
| But Jean the birdman pulls it off
|
| His finger’s on the trigger
|
| His eye is on the clock
|
| He doesn’t give the game away
|
| And quickly fires the bulets off
|
| Six hearts cut short
|
| Still dreaming they’re alive
|
| Blown 'round in dusty circles
|
| Like an absent state of mind
|
| Who hunter, who victim?
|
| God love America
|
| He surely doesn’t love him
|
| Hitching out of nowhere
|
| Lines of traffic knee deep
|
| A chance to stave the morning off
|
| And get some sleep
|
| Heaven may stone him
|
| But Jean the birdman pulls it off
|
| He wears a crucifix
|
| His mother left to him
|
| It’s wrapped in chains around his heart
|
| Rusted and wafer thin
|
| «Don't count on luck son»
|
| all the angels sing
|
| «Don't need to check the weathervane
|
| We all know what tomorrow brings»
|
| Life is a cattle farm
|
| Coyotes with the mules
|
| Life is a bullring
|
| For taking risks and flouting rules
|
| Who needs a safety net
|
| The world is open wide
|
| Just look out for the card sharks
|
| And the danger signs
|
| Heaven may stone him
|
| But Jean the birdman pulls it off |