Bullets in a Briefcase

Little fish, boat's too full, down you go Breathing in salt and fuel, tiny gulps Statistically, it's commonplace, you're not alone So, end like this, instead of shot back at home The world is a strange place Quiet like bullets in a briefcase Why do I feel like I'm in the wrong place? Quiet like bullets in a briefcase Quiet like bullets in a briefcase Little man, Northern France, winter's cold 800 hours, 4, 000 miles, feet alone No one I know would even dare it, let alone Shantytown, bleeding out in the shadows The world is a strange place Quiet like bullets in a briefcase Why do I feel like I'm in the wrong place? Quiet like bullets in a briefcase Quiet like bullets in a briefcase,