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Flogging Molly
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Tobacco Island
Lyricist:Dennis Casey, Matthew Hensley, Nathen A Jeglinski, David King, Bridget Regan, Robert Anthony Schmidt, George Edward Schwindt
All to hell we must sail For the shores of sweet Barbados Where the sugar cane grows taller Than the God we once believed in
Till the butcher and his crown Raped the land we used to sleep in Now tomorrow chimes of ghostly crimes That haunt tobacco island
'Twas 1659 forgotten now for sure They dragged us from our homeland With the musket and their gun
Cromwell and his roundheads Battered all we know Shackled hopes of freedom We're now but stolen goods
Darken the horizon Blackened from the sun This rotten cage of Bridgetown Is where I now belong
All to hell we must sail For the shores of sweet Barbados Where the sugar cane grows taller Than the God we once believed in
Till the butcher and his crown Raped the land we used to sleep in Now tomorrow chimes of ghostly crimes That haunt tobacco island
Red leg down a peg Blistered burns the soul The floggings they're a plenty But reasons there are none
Our backs belong to landlords Where branded is there name Paid for with ten shillings Cheap labor never breaks
The silver moon is shinin' Cools the copper blood Find more lyrics at ※ Mojim.com Where the livin' meet the dead And together dance as one
All to hell we must sail For the shores of sweet Barbados Where the sugar cane grows taller Than the God we once believed in
Till the butcher and his crown Raped the land we used to sleep in Now tomorrow chimes of ghostly crimes That haunt tobacco island
Agony, will you cleanse this misery? For it's never again I'll breathe The air of home From this sandy edge The rolling sea breaks my revenge With each whisper a thousand waves I hear roar, I'm coming home
Dark is the horizon Blackened by the sun This rotten cage of Bridgetown Is where I now belong
All to hell we must sail For the shores of sweet Barbados Where the sugar cane grows taller Than the God we once believed in
Till the butcher and his crown Raped the land we used to sleep in Now tomorrow chimes of ghostly crimes That haunt tobacco island
All to hell we must sail For the shores of sweet Barbados Where the sugar cane grows taller Than the God we once believed in
Till the butcher and his crown Raped the land we used to sleep in Now tomorrow chimes of ghostly crimes That haunt tobacco island
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