Bullets

Oh, well, he’s been collecting since the age of nine
Every shiny bullet that he could find
Built himself a house with the wooden floors
Put the shiny bullets in a chest of drawers
Well, his wife’s long gone and the kids are grown
The trees, they fall down on their own
Memories fade like an old slideshow
But the bullets still shine like coins in the snow
Well, one day he took himself into town
When the men with the truck, well, they came around
They took the television and the gun from the wall
Oh, and almost every bullet from the chest of drawers
Oh, no, oh
Well, he came back home, found the house in a mess
Run into the bedroom and the old brown chest
Well, he didn’t care much for the VCR
But he cried for the space where the bullets were
Well, the men took the truck down into town
And they sold all the silver they had found
But they couldn’t sell the bullets 'cause they weren’t live rounds
So they dug a big hole, put the bullets in the ground
Oh-oh-oh, no, oh-oh, I…
Well, he doesn’t leave the house much anymore
'Cause the men are gonna come like they did before
And he’ll hold onto the three or four
Bullets that they left in the chest of drawers
Well, the bullets that they left in the chest of drawers