I count the corpses on my left I find I'm not so tidy. So I better get away better make it today. I've cut twenty-three down since Friday. But I can't control it my face is drawn. My instinct still emotes it. I slash them cold I kill them dead. I broke the gooks I cracked their heads. I'll bomb them out from under the beds. But now I've got the running gun blues. It seems the peacefuls stopped the war. Left generals squashed and stifled. But I'll slip out again tonight. Cause they haven't taken back my rifle. For I promote oblivion. And I'll plug a few civilians. I'll slash them cold I'll kill them dead. I'll break them gooks I'll crack their heads. I'll slice them till they're running red. But now I've got the running gun blues. I'll slash them cold I'll kill them dead. I'll break them gooks I'll crack their heads. I'll slice them till they're running red. But now I've got the running gun blues. (Oh oh oh oh). (Oh oh oh oh). (Oh oh oh oh). (Oh oh oh oh). (Oh oh oh oh). (Oh oh oh oh). (Oh oh oh oh). (Oh oh oh oh). (Oh oh oh oh). (Oh oh oh oh). (Oh oh oh oh). (Oh oh oh oh). (Oh oh oh oh).