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Son of a Gun - Bruce Dickinson
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Son of a Gun Bruce Dickinson

Son of a Gun - Bruce Dickinson
Holy was the preacher
Riding on his rig of steel in the rising sun
This was no grim reaper, but a man
With a smile who took a pride in a job well done

Ooh in a blood red sunrise
He's preaching conversion, as you lay down and die
Die, die, die

Just a Godgiven holy roller
In a Godforsaken land
He didn't choose this killing ground
He didn't want this scrap of land

He gonna scorch the earth, yeah
And make the rivers run dry
Until we learn to hate like him
Oh, kill for killing, live to die

Ride on you son of a gun
Ride on, ride into the setting sun
Ride on you son of a gun, yeah

Ride on you son of a gun
Ride on, ride into the setting sun
Ride on you son of a gun
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