Young Men Dead - The Black Angels

Fire for the hills, pick up your feet and let’s go

Head for the hills, pick up steel on your way

And when you find a piece of them in your sight

Fire at will, don’t you waste no time

Another thought of the unaware

Addiction in disguise

With a drop of blood

You will take them out for me

Fire from the hills, pick up speed and let’s go

Fire for real, yeah, shoot to kill with no aim

Head for the hills, yes, eyes on the camp fire glow

Creep up there like a white mink hiding in snow

And out of the black a figure forms

A soldier in the sky

With a drop of love

Trying to set you free

Run for the hills, pick up your feet and let’s go

We did our jobs, pick up speed now lets move

The trees can’t grow without the sun in their eyes

And we can’t live if we’re too afraid to die

Hold on tight, yes, hold on tight you’re too slow

Fire at the breeze that blows these thoughts through our mind

Hire only thieves to steal the thoughts from our heads