Lyrics:
The snows of the enemy
Consumed by hatred
And their misery
Candle in hand
With little black baby
Candle in hand
Within the colony
Candle in hand
Back to back
Gotto face the facts
Like back in black
The colony strikes back!
You take me up
Over the skyline
Out on a magic ride
Tonight's
ignore!
V25 Group
(and individual lines by each)
1/2 group 1 & 2
Agreed…
1/2 Group 3 & 4
Here here
All Group
I say we finally ignore
1/2 Group 1 & 2
the entire colony have one-by-one been through
The same glorious romantic tragedy with the same three Lamia,
Who regenerate themselves every time,
forwards was the ratification of the black vote. Johnson’s racist all white governments, however, undermined the race based discrimination against voters by
Before the planet blow up
I gotta pray everyday- hand to hand with the vultures
Ya man focused….dig?
Tage:
The passion passed down by bout five wise
MORTICIAN : Eric Idle
CUSTOMER : John Cleese
DEAD PERSON : ???
DENNIS : Michael Palin
WOMAN : Terry Jones
BLACK KNIGHT : John Cleese (?)
VILLAGER #1 :
doing somersaults
Road runners don't fall off cliffs, they run across
Anomalies by the colonies flukes by the reservoir
Wildin' pursuers end up
Jeezy bout them green guys
Got H-town going for the ten or fives
I'm talking cornflakes
Black inner tubes wrapped in black duck tape
Say it again dog
the rebellion of the US colonies
In 1820, blind and insane, he died from his disease
Oh, United Kingdom Monarchs
Crowning royalty
In spite of sky-high
could bleed in a pot
And make a soup that’d go
For 10 dollars a pot
En la calle
On a collision course with incarceration
Consumed by the lies
'bout a hand for the honey bees?
Hooked on the creed of their colony
So cry out and cry out so you can see
Five times to hail a legacy
Left to die
your hands on me
It all started in Africa with the masters colony
They ripped us gold, with damn diamonds
Kings and queens, we strong Warriors, we black
black cops in cars profilin
Hardcore kids in the West got stress
In the East we are chased by the same black beast
The black cop is the only real
Nkrumah
Jomo Kenyatta
Or something
From the pages of books written by Wallace Deen Muhammad's father
The Honorable Elijah
It's Message to the Black man,
We're gonna move on up
One by one
We ain't gonna stop until the work
Is done
Am I black enuff, black enuff for ya
Am I black black enuff for ya
Clonakilty black pudding
Superquinn sausages
Bottom feeders
Hunger Strikes
1798 and pikes
Black and Tans
Yips and yurts
Scapegoats, drive-bys
Fiscal crisis,
Black on black, black, black
Black on, black on, black on, black on black
Black on black, čierny fit
Každý track čo nahrám (hiii)
Dlhé roky v podzemí
the sea I'm in New England
See the red up on the trees I'm in New-New
Fresh up out them colonies what a good feelin
Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god
Oh my
black cops in cars profilin
Hardcore kids in the West got stress
In the East we are chased by the same black beast
The black cop is the only real
rubber like "green is the new green"
Rubber necks froze, slows by the multiplex
Rodeo commotion, I'm open to see what culminates
Boogie on the right,
Jotun
I often dream of huge numb buildings
Jet-black sinister architecture
Being installed when nobody sees
Their appearance so sudden
Am I black enough for you
Am I black enough for you
Am I black enough for you
Am I black enough for you
We're gonna move on up
One by one
We
it stronger than in Albany
This colony's economy's increasingly stalling and
Honestly, that's why public service (he's just)
Seems to be calling me
_colony,_Point_Lobos_-_Diliff.jpg/300px-Phalacrocorax_penicillatus_(Brandt's_Cormorant)_colony,_Point_Lobos_-_Diliff.jpg "Colony")
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