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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.