Lyrics:
Two hundred years in a time sublime
Now you've turned into a life of crime
Two hundred years in a time sublime
Now you've turned into a life of crime
tonight
We could be two hundred years apart
It's not your fault except it was
Trickle down the gap
Two part lover meet my mother
Tax my bread to death
She
"This is the life!" . . .
She's two hundred years old
So mean she couldn't grow no lips
Boy, she'd be in trouble if she
Tried to grow a mustache
am
Paralyzed
Feed me memories from my two hundred years
Feed him memories from his two hundred years
How I hope
Feed me memories from my two hundred
Tainted blood, she cries and dies
My whole world fades away
No one to wipe my bloody tears
The life we had for two hundred years
Do whatever it takes to end
In two hundred years, these words will have disappeared
And my body will have gone the same way too
What's this I've found, a little stone in
I get more motivation
Than the two hundred years before
Shake me shake me shake milk (Shake me shake me shake milk)
I get more motivation than
I get more motivation
Than the two hundred years before
Shake me shake me shake milk (Shake me shake me shake milk)
I get more motivation than
years of track
Two hundred years of glory never to turn back
The train is called America your ticket is a dream
That left the torture of freedom for
years of track
Two hundred years of glory never to turn back
The train is called America your ticket is a dream
That left the torture of freedom for
years of track
Two hundred years of glory never to turn back
The train is called America your ticket is a dream
That left the torture of freedom for
It's two-hundred years of rust on a gate
It wind up like a toy when the wind plays
Kid shit
She was blowing before the wind
Tell them blowsy
stop 'til I'm dead and gone
And even then, SESH will live on
Two hundred years from now, they'll be singing along
It goes on and on
Shit never stop 'til
Two nations divided
By a common language
And about two hundred years of new songs and dancing
But the difference is language
And just the bits
two hundred years old
Do you have something to say?
For a million years
Arthur Conan Doyle is in the house
And I came to stay
He's at least two hundred
on
The fourth of July
Two hundred Years
Have slowly gone by
But we still got freedom and
We know that it smells like
Firewood burnin'
Spent cases smokin'
And them
After the strongest earthquake to hit the
Country in over two hundred years
But you must smile through your tears and
Keep moving with the
Faith that
two hundred years
The wine drunk and the freedom proclaimed
O are dubious and laughable
Waiting to yield a new use of life
Scatter,
Scatter
Kakakaka
Two years ago
Twenty years ago
Two hundreds years ago
Two thousands years ago
Clocks on the wall seem to silence
In fact, it sounds like
paradise here,
After two hundred years?
So now, beneath the Southern Cross
It's time to tally up the cost
Of what we've gained and what we've lost forever
as the moon
Born two hundred years too late
And two hundred years too soon
I'm a child of this age
Locked into the pages of your book
And when I am but dust
as distant to you as the moon
Born two-hundred years too late
And two-hundred years too soon
I'm a child of this age
Locked into the pages of your book
as distant to you as the moon
Born two-hundred years too late
And two-hundred years too soon
I'm a child of this age
Locked into the pages of your book
Ooh, two hundred years of war
Fight till we are no more
A curse on the streets of gold, ooh ooh
Just know
That mine is a hand to hold
Take back what
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