Bullet Belt Songtext
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Hey Daddy tell me 'bout the time you had to go to jail for smokin' pot
An Iron Maiden concert in a Carolina parking lot
Whoa
And when you had to listen to recordings on a record player
And your band all had to plug into a little amplifier
Just to hear over the drums,
Hear over the drums,
I can only hear the drums,
I can only hear the drums.
An Iron Maiden concert in a Carolina parking lot
Whoa
And when you had to listen to recordings on a record player
And your band all had to plug into a little amplifier
Just to hear over the drums,
Hear over the drums,
I can only hear the drums,
I can only hear the drums.
Well 1969 to 1977
It was 8 years of heaven 'hind the 7-11
Stayin' out all night
While we kept our engines revvin'
And we'd never make it home before dawn...
Maybe...
I'm not that crazy
I'm just playing with the hand I was dealt
Maybe...
I'm not that crazy
I'm just a chip off the ol' bullet belt.
Hey momma tell me bout the time you would sneak out of your window
And meet up with your other friends and smoke your cigarettes
And blow the smoke into another girl's mouth
Whoa
And when you drove across the country
With your stoner friends all in a van
To fill up all your mason jars with the California sand
California sand, California sand California, California, California sand
Well 1969 to 1977
It was 8 years of heaven 'hind the 7-11
Stayin' out all night
While we kept our engines revvin'
And we'd never make it home before dawn...
Hair dyed black,
A walking marshall stack
We'd play all night shows behind the chicken shack
Sittin' back to back,
We were a heart attack'
Givin' the finger to the cops on the lawn
Maybe...
I'm not that crazy
I'm just playin' with the hand I was dealt
Maybe...
I'm not that crazy
I'm just a chip off the ol' bullet belt
Well 1969 to 1977
It was 8 years of heaven 'hind the 7-11
Stayin' out all night
While we kept our engines revvin'
And we'd never make it home before dawn...
Hair dyed black,
A walking marshall stack
We'd play all night shows behind the chicken shack
Sittin' back to back,
We were a heart attack'
Givin' the finger to the cops on the lawn
Maybe...
I'm not that crazy
I'm just playin' with the hand I was dealt
Maybe...
I'm not that crazy
I'm just a chip off the ol' bullet belt
It was 8 years of heaven 'hind the 7-11
Stayin' out all night
While we kept our engines revvin'
And we'd never make it home before dawn...
Maybe...
I'm not that crazy
I'm just playing with the hand I was dealt
Maybe...
I'm not that crazy
I'm just a chip off the ol' bullet belt.
Hey momma tell me bout the time you would sneak out of your window
And meet up with your other friends and smoke your cigarettes
And blow the smoke into another girl's mouth
Whoa
And when you drove across the country
With your stoner friends all in a van
To fill up all your mason jars with the California sand
California sand, California sand California, California, California sand
Well 1969 to 1977
It was 8 years of heaven 'hind the 7-11
Stayin' out all night
While we kept our engines revvin'
And we'd never make it home before dawn...
Hair dyed black,
A walking marshall stack
We'd play all night shows behind the chicken shack
Sittin' back to back,
We were a heart attack'
Givin' the finger to the cops on the lawn
Maybe...
I'm not that crazy
I'm just playin' with the hand I was dealt
Maybe...
I'm not that crazy
I'm just a chip off the ol' bullet belt
Well 1969 to 1977
It was 8 years of heaven 'hind the 7-11
Stayin' out all night
While we kept our engines revvin'
And we'd never make it home before dawn...
Hair dyed black,
A walking marshall stack
We'd play all night shows behind the chicken shack
Sittin' back to back,
We were a heart attack'
Givin' the finger to the cops on the lawn
Maybe...
I'm not that crazy
I'm just playin' with the hand I was dealt
Maybe...
I'm not that crazy
I'm just a chip off the ol' bullet belt
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