Flogging Molly - Tobacco Island lyrics
[Flogging Molly - Tobacco Island lyrics]
We must sail for the shores of sweet Barbados
Where the sugar cane grows taller than
The god we once believed in
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 knew shackled hopes of freedom
We're naught but stolen goods
Dark is 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
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 shining
Cools the copper blood
Where the living 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
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
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
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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