Momma, put my guns in the ground,
I can't shoot them anymore,
That long black cloud is coming down,
Feel I'm knockin' on heaven's door
Momma, put my guns in the ground,
I can't shoot them anymore,
That long black cloud is coming down,
Feel I'm knockin' on heaven's door
«No reason to get excited», — the thief, he kindly spoke,
«There are many here among us who feel that life is but a joke.
But you and I, we've been through that, and this is not our fate,
So let us not talk falsely now, the hour is getting late.»