U2 - Bullet the Blue Sky Lyrics

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5. Bullet the Blue Sky

Bullet the Blue Sky Lyrics

How many times have you listened to the lyrics of Bullet the Blue Sky by U2? Have you ever wondered what a lyrics was or an entire line of the music lyrics? Bullet the Blue Sky is one of the more popular songs by U2 and the song lyrics in Bullet the Blue Sky are sung all around the world and have had the music lyrics translated into many different languages. Rap lyrics in other countries are very popular and U2 Bullet the Blue Sky lyrics from the U2 CD featuring the hit Bullet the Blue Sky is no exception.

Bullet the Blue Sky Lyrics

In the howling wind comes a stinging rain
See them driving nails
Into the souls on the tree of pain
From the firefly, a red orange glow
See the face of fear
Running scared in the valley below


Bullet the blue sky
Bullet the blue sky
Bullet the blue
Bullet the blue


In the locust wind comes a rattle and hum
Jacob wrestled the angel
And the angel was overcome
You plant a demon seed
You raise a flower of fire
See them burning crosses
See the flames higher and higher


Bullet the blue sky
Bullet the blue sky
Bullet the blue
Bullet the blue


(Yeah...alright)


So this guy comes up to me
His face red like a rose on a thorn bush
Like all the colors of a royal flush
And he's peeling off those dollar bills
Slapping ;em down
One hundred, two hundred
And I can see those fighter planes
I can see those fighter planes
Across the mud huts where the children sleep
Through the valleys and the quiet city street
We take the staircase to the first floor
We turn the key and slowly unlock the door
As a man breathes into a saxophone
And through the walls we hear the city groan
Outside it's America
Outside it's America


[Spoken part follows]


So I'm back in my hotel room with Johnnie Coltrane and the love supreme. In the next room I hear some woman scream out that her lover's turning off, turning on the television. And I can't tell the difference between ABC news, Hill Street Blues, and a preacher on the old time gospel hour stealing money from the sick and the old.

Well the God I believe in isn't short of cash, mister.

I feel a long way from the hills of San Salvador, where the sky is ripped open, and the rain pours through a gaping wound...pelting the women and children...pelting the women and children...

...who run...who run...into the arms...of America

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