Bruce Dickinson
Son of a Gun
Holy was the preacher
Riding on his rig of steel in the rising sun
This was no grim reaper, but a man
With a smile who took a pride in a job well done

Ooh in a blood red sunrise
He's preaching conversion, as you lay down and die
Die, die, die

Just a Godgiven holy roller
In a Godforsaken land
He didn't choose this killing ground
He didn't want this scrap of land

He gonna scorch the earth, yeah
And make the rivers run dry
Until we learn to hate like him
Oh, kill for killing, live to die

Ride on you son of a gun
Ride on, ride into the setting sun
Ride on you son of a gun, yeah

Ride on you son of a gun
Ride on, ride into the setting sun
Ride on you son of a gun
You gotta be a hero
For one last time
To prove through your destruction
Killing is a great way of life

There's a wooden cross somewhere
Where they'll bury you down deep
You lie to your people, you lie to yourself
You're in love with death, babe, you've got no shame

Ride on you son of a gun
Ride on, ride into the setting sun
Ride on you son of a gun, yeah

Ride on you son of a gun
Ride on, ride into the setting sun
Ride on you son of a gun

The preacher laughed, the preacher cried
He loaded bullets as he smiled
The congregation sat and wondered
Would they live or would they die?

Just an ordinary man with his orders and his plans
In the shadows of the cross
Ooh, in a blood red sunrise
Take me to Jesus, with Judas my guide
Ride on you son of a gun
Ride on, ride into the setting sun
Ride on you son of a gun, yeah

Ride on you son of a gun
Ride on, ride into the setting sun
Ride on you son of a gun

Ride on, ride on, ride on, yeah
Ride on, ride on, ride on, yeah
Ride on, ride to history

Ride on, ride on, you bleeding heart
Ride on, ride on, you played the part
Ride on, you feel no pity
Ride on, you feel no pain

Ride into history