There's a bullet in my bag

And it tells me what to think

In the middle of the night

When I can't sleep

There's a bullet in my bag

Singing sweetly:

"You traded 8 for 35 millimeter

But the trigger slips,

The shot goes wide

By a millimeter."



There's a body in my bed

Telling me to stand

In the middle of the fire

Where I can't breathe

There's a body in my bed

Sleeping softly.

Then the day comes on

And something's off

A millimeter.

Sometimes close is not close enough:

Millimeter.



When the numbers are run

The measure's off a millimeter.

We run for miles to come up short

By a millimeter.