(adrian smith/bruce dickinson)
Turn the spotlights on the people,
switch the dial and eat the worm.
take your chances, kill the engine,
drop your bombs and let it burn.
White flags shot to ribbons,
the truce is black and burned,
shellshock in the kitchen,
back in the village again,
in the village.
i'm back in the village again.
Throwing dice now, rolling loaded,
i see sixes all the way.
in a black hole, and i'm spinning
as my wings get shot away.
No breaks on the inside,
paper cats and burning barns,
there's a fox among the chickens,
and a killer in the hounds.
Questions are a burden
and answers are a prison for oneself
shellshock in the kitchen
tables start to burn.
But still we walk into the valley
and others try to kill the inner flame
we're burning brighter than before
i don't have a number, i'm a name!