Search results for visit from mozambique by third world

We've found 593 lyrics, 94 artists, and 100 albums matching visit from mozambique by third world:


Albums:

Live at Club Mozambique (Grant Green) · The Visit [Original Soundtrack] (Hutchinson, Hutch) · Visit from the Dead Dog (Ed Harcourt) · Visit to Scandinavia (John Coltrane) · The Visit (Loreena McKennitt) · Visit From The Dead Dog, Pt. 1 (Ed Harcourt) · Visit from the Dead Dog (Ed Harcourt) · The Visit [Original Soundtrack] (Hutchinson, Hutch) · A New Orleans Visit: Before Katrina (Michael Doucet) · Nice Place to Visit (Frozen Ghost) – and 90 other albums »


and poverty
By keeping the pressure on the innocent ones
Continually, this can't go on

Third world people
I'n'I remember where ya' comin' from
Bona fide, dis
frequent flier miles and a book of upgrades
So next visit the third world I won't have to fly second class
The people's revolution is gonna be a podcast
by the fence of the street
With the sex stalls
So many freaks geeks rats
Cool cats and fat girls
I'm that kid lounging in my own world

Dig daydreaming
you really think so 
Hope that the light of the first world 
Won't dark the light of the third world 
Wash the darkness from your eyes 
It's time
pretending they're a different world from me
I show my responsibility

One world is enough
For all of us
One world is enough
For all of us

The third world
invention
By pretending they´re a different world from me
I show my responsibility

One world is enough
For all of us
One world is enough
For all
Listen boys and girls
About the other world
It's just a day job
Night job
Odd job
Nose job
Hand job
Blow job
Rack job
Snow job
Boring
invention
By pretending they're a different world from me
I show my responsibility
One world is enough, for all of us
One world is enough, for all of us
to the land of the (G) hummingbird shouts of welcome were (C) heard
His visit to their (Am) island is bound to be an epoch in (G) local (C) history
Definitely
the Third World's gone
The waters poisoned where I'm from son
Seven hundred children die by the end 'this song
Revolution will come, where I'm from: the Third
outside a barber shop
Looked at his face
Took off his jacket
Put it on the pavement
Stepped on it
And started preaching like a monk from another world
little invention
By pretending they're a different world from me
I show my responsibility

[Chorus]

The third world breathes our air tomorrow
We
The dilsnick it will hit her ex pills
I can feel nigga best deals
You can get the steal
If you ill I'm concealed with a
Technina millameter by my side
God
him by the arm,
He said, "Johnny, come and go along with me,
Poor boy, Johnny, come and walk along with me."
John Hardy stood in his old jail cell,
Marching our way through the crypts of the dead
Taking his land by command
Killing our victims and taking no slaves
Hitler's final third reich
and took him by the arm,
He said, "Johnny, come and go along with me,
Poor boy, Johnny, come and walk along with me."
John Hardy stood in his old jail
Heard a sermon from a creaky pulpit with no one in the nave,
I paid a visit to the synagogue and I left there feeling blame,

No one could tell me
He sees his world through the crystal state of departure
The hooves echo the approach of the third coming
On it's back a goddess with shining black
so that the morning, the sun
may scream of brain bending saxophones

The third world arrives, with Yusef Lateef, and Pharaoh Saunders
With oboes
him by the arm
He said Johnny, come and go along with me
Poor boy, Johnny, come and walk along with me

John Hardy stood in his old jail cell
and took him by the arm
He said Johnny, come and go along with me Poor boy
Johnny, come and walk along with me

John Hardy stood in his old jail cell
"The third angel blew his trumpet, 
And a great star fell from heaven, 
Blazing like a torch, 
And it fell on a third of the rivers 
And in
second-hand clothes
Eventually your world will shrink within four walls
Of neglected debts and stolen stereos.

So move away jimmy blue
Before your small,
and toolies
Mike Jackson, kick me, kike me, Jew me
Now all the white chicks in the world got booties
He rap by popular demand
And a nigga nosey on some Toucan
a mailbox
A hundred bucks from Maud his old friend from the Broadway nightspot
The world had passed him by and he had nothing more to give her
So he continued