Some folks ride like the wind
With the whispering pines to guide them
And the burning light inside them
Keeps them warm in the snow
Others fear the sounds they hear
Make banditos out of molehills
Fill their hearts with porcupine quills
They're dead and buried long before they go
Charlton Heston movies are no longer in demand
His immortal soul lay forever in the sand
The angels wouldn't take him up to heaven like he planned
'Cause they couldn't pry that gun from his cold, dead hand
It takes a cold, dead hand to decide to pull the trigger
It takes a cold, dead heart and as near as I can figure
With your cold, dead aim you're trying to prove your dick is bigger
But we know your charriot may not be swinging low
Cold dead hand, cold dead hand
Cold dead hand, cold dead hand
You're just a big man with an itty bitty gland
So you need something bigger just to fill
Your cold, dead hand
Imagine if the Lord were here
And he knew what you've been thinkin'
Would his sacred heart be sinkin'
Into the canyon of dismay
And on the ones who sell the guns
He'd sic the vultures and coyotes
Only the Devil's tru devotees
Could profiteer from pain and fear
Charlton Heston movies are no longer in demand
His immortal soul lay forever in the sand
The angels wouldn't take him up to Heaven like he planned
'Cause they couldn't pry the gun from his cold, dead hand
Cold dead hand, cold dead hand
Cold dead hand, cold dead hand
Cold dead hand, cold dead hand
You're a big man with an itty bitty gland
So you need omething bigger with a hair pin trigger
You don't want to be caught with your trousers down
When the psycho killer comes around
So you make your home like a thunderdome
And you're always packin' everywhere you roam
But the psychos win no matter what you do
'Cause they're gonna buy way more guns than you
And while you're stumbling out of bed
They put five rounds in back of your head
Or you get depressed 'cause the money runs out
Then you put your own shotgun in your mouth
And your kids walk in and they find you there
Like a headless stump in your underwear
And they move the gun and it kills them too
And your wife just doesn't know what to do
But she takes a hand grenade from her shoe
And she pulls the pin...
And it's all on you
And your cold, dead hand
With the whispering pines to guide them
And the burning light inside them
Keeps them warm in the snow
Others fear the sounds they hear
Make banditos out of molehills
Fill their hearts with porcupine quills
They're dead and buried long before they go
Charlton Heston movies are no longer in demand
His immortal soul lay forever in the sand
The angels wouldn't take him up to heaven like he planned
'Cause they couldn't pry that gun from his cold, dead hand
It takes a cold, dead hand to decide to pull the trigger
It takes a cold, dead heart and as near as I can figure
With your cold, dead aim you're trying to prove your dick is bigger
But we know your charriot may not be swinging low
Cold dead hand, cold dead hand
Cold dead hand, cold dead hand
You're just a big man with an itty bitty gland
So you need something bigger just to fill
Your cold, dead hand
Imagine if the Lord were here
And he knew what you've been thinkin'
Would his sacred heart be sinkin'
Into the canyon of dismay
And on the ones who sell the guns
He'd sic the vultures and coyotes
Only the Devil's tru devotees
Could profiteer from pain and fear
Charlton Heston movies are no longer in demand
His immortal soul lay forever in the sand
The angels wouldn't take him up to Heaven like he planned
'Cause they couldn't pry the gun from his cold, dead hand
Cold dead hand, cold dead hand
Cold dead hand, cold dead hand
Cold dead hand, cold dead hand
You're a big man with an itty bitty gland
So you need omething bigger with a hair pin trigger
You don't want to be caught with your trousers down
When the psycho killer comes around
So you make your home like a thunderdome
And you're always packin' everywhere you roam
But the psychos win no matter what you do
'Cause they're gonna buy way more guns than you
And while you're stumbling out of bed
They put five rounds in back of your head
Or you get depressed 'cause the money runs out
Then you put your own shotgun in your mouth
And your kids walk in and they find you there
Like a headless stump in your underwear
And they move the gun and it kills them too
And your wife just doesn't know what to do
But she takes a hand grenade from her shoe
And she pulls the pin...
And it's all on you
And your cold, dead hand
Contributed by anonymous - 2013/4/17 - 21:56
La celebre frase (a 2:10) pronunciata brandendo un grosso fucilazzo, probabilmente dell'epoca della guerra di secessione...
Bernart - 2013/4/18 - 09:04
Intervista di Michael Moore a Charlton Heston, da "Bowling for Columbine"
Bernart - 2013/4/18 - 09:22
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"Vi darò la mia pistola quando la prenderete dalla mia fredda mano senza vita". Così, da presidente della National Rifle Association, l'attore Charlton Heston si rivolgeva al vicepresidente americano Al Gore e a quanti già all'epoca premevano per un più stretto controllo sulla diffusione delle armi.
Mano fredda senza vita, ovvero "Cold Dead Hand", celebre motto del divo hollywoodiano che un altro attore, Jim Carrey, ha rivolto contro la Nra e i patiti delle armi automatiche e dei caricatori senza fine. Facendone il titolo di una canzone, e relativo video, che in forma di parodia ridicolizza Heston e i lobbisti delle armi.
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