Lyrics

The gulls are coming in off the coast The smell of corpses passed them in Mass graves uncovered, must be abroad - it can't be here I can sense your violence, but I still don't understand How when the past seems dead and you've got the future In the palm of your hand Run quick through (noble?) streets Where killers hide Our fruits get bricks in windows And foreigners get hushed-up trials And you're waiting for a knock at the door Which would tell if you spent the next few years Free from life attacked by petrol bombs The price of bread went up five pence today And an immigrant was kicked to death again And I'm scared for my life for the first time in it And we've known all along that a home can put your life at risk So I guess we'll just disperse again And the (...)s are coming off the land The easy targets lure them in (...) Don't be absurd, it can't be here Until we find a place to settle We'll just keep moving on We stay in flocks like birds, no one dares to move along Across a sea of bleached skulls Chased by death in all its forms Over mountains, under suns We shoot to kill, let's shoot for fun Across a desert's burning skies, we never stop to sleep or eat Death always finds us in the end, its (...) shadows (...) weeping Over hot (...) and plains, a killer wants to see us slain Over fields of wheat and grain, through the endless, pouring rain Why can we never find a safe place to land? And we find ourselves through God's providing hand At the close of every day
Writer(s): Robert Whatley, Paul Wilmott, Ian Crause Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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