Bowie Knives - Mazes

When I wasn’t old, I played with bowie knives

My grand-dad left them me when he died, he died

And now I’m out of luck, I like to stab things up

And use my bowie knives

Hanging out on a wire, leaning low

For a fireguard, a fireguard, a fireguard

Now I’m twenty-three, I hope for amnesties

To rid me of this bomb that ticks on, ticks on

And now I’m out of luck, I like to stab things up

And use my bowie knives

And they die, they die, they die

Hanging out on a wire, leaning low

For a fireguard, a fireguard, a fireguard

A fireguard, a fireguard, a fireguard