Lyrics:
A young sailor saw land said, "We isn't far"
Columbus lies said he saw it the evening before
They touched ground, they were greeted by the
Columbus had
Muley and little Muley said,
"They've been tractored out by the cats, Tom,
They've been tractored out by the cats."
Then Tom he walked
sore nose
"Is this your handywork?"
As the green particles from the men's toilet
Land on your fuckin' shirt
I keep out of it
I keep out of it
I
The plowman is broad as the back
Of the land he is sowing
As he dances the circular track
Of the plow ever knowing
That the work of his day measures
More than
the work of his day measures more than the planting and growing
Let it grow, let it grow, greatly yield.
What shall we say, shall we call it by a name,
loud
Try and take my land
Minute men are way too proud
Bring the fight to us
Your crown is way too tight
We got the home field advantage, man,
Your
basking in the warmth
Watching a small bee land on one's finger and nibble at his cuticle
This offends the man
Now the bees are gone
The men start to paint
pains
and go insane when it's mentioned—feel the tension
between God and man, I ride the land and see there's ‘nuff work to be done
between the earth
a large explosion and they were surrounded by gunmen
But Sandy wasn't phased
He knew this was the work of John Hook
His brother
With all weapons pointing
emphasize the show, we got ego
Make this your night, just slip it right, and by day
As the people say, live it up, shucks
No work or play, our world is free
another lesson repeats
Though we shared our words as men, but that's a work of deceit
He'd be verbal on my head until the work was complete
I moved
dust
They stand in our country
We see them and then
We say it's just dust but it's not
It's mountains of men
They used to work here, young men and old
how it all work
I am a secret man
With nothing left to prove
I live on my secret land
Abide by my secret rules
Abandoned by my brother-man
With only my
where truth and justice are mere esoterics. building machines to work Like men and moulding men who act like machines. this hegemony has ensured that
to take the throne one day
A brief reign succeeded by the
House of Tolui
Ambitions fade in time
Internal works realign
Until the state stands poised again
biddy bum.
If I were a wealthy man.
I wouldn't have to work hard.
Ya ha deedle deedle, bubba bubba deedle deedle dum.
If I were a biddy biddy rich,
make men into boys
I destroy your whole family tree
Chop it down
Hip-hop is longer now in this repertoire
Get your wardrobe torn out your closet
Walls
White men on my neck. Feel like Floyd ,Can't take breath. Oppressed on my land. I'm suppressed on my land
They wanna see me sleep so they eat all my land
I'm so gone
Lifted out my seat
I'm far from home
In a fantasy
My minds blown
In the land of no mistakes I roam
Though it's temporary I'm shown
Hoesch, Krupp, Thyssen, Mannesmann –
they make their steel with men
in the blood of men
and the ink of chimneys
the smoke nights write their oaths
smoke
edict screaming we all came from nothing
Don't you speak the name of Jesus
Please
When His glory is revealed to the sons of men
You'll see a massive
mind, you can step the fuck off, pops, fuck you
Had to play catch by myself, what a sorry sight
A pitiful plight, so I pray for a starry night
Please
a leader
Overseer
Of the work
Hired for here
c Nova Scotian
By name of Ernest
Van Buskirk
Then he moved in
With his lady
Little Billy and Viola
This was
Whoa, I'll not let them lead me
Work things out in the end, you wake up at night to see them
And pointed fingers by strange men
Even when they're not
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