|
Set the yards up, dug a hole
|
Rounded up the sheep
|
Picked the ones that had to go
|
It¡¯d make a fella weep
|
Food for dogs and a few loose coins
|
|
CHORUS
|
|
It was a simple plan to work this land
|
But a fighting man can¡¯t understand
|
It blown away and overcome
|
By the silver bullet and the loaded gun
|
|
We've fed the lambs by hand
|
The boys have run the shed
|
We¡¯ve given all we could
|
Now half the flock is dead
|
Years of hope in a shallow grave
|
|
There¡¯s a mound of dirt by the northern fence
|
The ground is turned and bare
|
But a man can¡¯t dwell on what is done
|
And what lies buried there
|
The work goes on and the seasons turn ...
|
|
CHORUS x 4
|
|
|
|
-----------------
|
Silver Bullet
|
| Colin Buchanan |
