Tobacco Island Lyrics
| Song | Tobacco Island |
| Artist | Flogging Molly |
| Album | Within a Mile of Home |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作曲 : Casey, Hensley, King, Maxwell ... | |
| All to hell we must sail | |
| For the shores of sweet | |
| BarbadosWhere the sugar cane grows taller | |
| Than the God we once believed in | |
| Till 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 know | |
| Shackled hopes of freedom | |
| We're now but stolen goods | |
| Darken 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 | |
| BarbadosWhere the sugar cane grows taller | |
| Than the God we once believed in | |
| Till 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 shinin' | |
| Cools the copper blood | |
| Where the livin' meet the dead | |
| And together dance as one | |
| All to hell we must sail | |
| For the shores of sweet | |
| BarbadosWhere the sugar cane grows taller | |
| Than the God we once believed in | |
| Till 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 | |
| BarbadosWhere the sugar cane grows taller | |
| Than the God we once believed in | |
| Till 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 | |
| BarbadosWhere the sugar cane grows taller | |
| Than the God we once believed in | |
| Till the butcher and his crown | |
| Raped the land we used to sleep in | |
| Now tomorrow chimes of ghostly crimes | |
| That haunt tobacco island |
| zuo qu : Casey, Hensley, King, Maxwell ... | |
| All to hell we must sail | |
| For the shores of sweet | |
| BarbadosWhere the sugar cane grows taller | |
| Than the God we once believed in | |
| Till 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 know | |
| Shackled hopes of freedom | |
| We' re now but stolen goods | |
| Darken 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 | |
| BarbadosWhere the sugar cane grows taller | |
| Than the God we once believed in | |
| Till 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 shinin' | |
| Cools the copper blood | |
| Where the livin' meet the dead | |
| And together dance as one | |
| All to hell we must sail | |
| For the shores of sweet | |
| BarbadosWhere the sugar cane grows taller | |
| Than the God we once believed in | |
| Till 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 | |
| BarbadosWhere the sugar cane grows taller | |
| Than the God we once believed in | |
| Till 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 | |
| BarbadosWhere the sugar cane grows taller | |
| Than the God we once believed in | |
| Till the butcher and his crown | |
| Raped the land we used to sleep in | |
| Now tomorrow chimes of ghostly crimes | |
| That haunt tobacco island |
| zuò qǔ : Casey, Hensley, King, Maxwell ... | |
| All to hell we must sail | |
| For the shores of sweet | |
| BarbadosWhere the sugar cane grows taller | |
| Than the God we once believed in | |
| Till 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 know | |
| Shackled hopes of freedom | |
| We' re now but stolen goods | |
| Darken 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 | |
| BarbadosWhere the sugar cane grows taller | |
| Than the God we once believed in | |
| Till 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 shinin' | |
| Cools the copper blood | |
| Where the livin' meet the dead | |
| And together dance as one | |
| All to hell we must sail | |
| For the shores of sweet | |
| BarbadosWhere the sugar cane grows taller | |
| Than the God we once believed in | |
| Till 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 | |
| BarbadosWhere the sugar cane grows taller | |
| Than the God we once believed in | |
| Till 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 | |
| BarbadosWhere the sugar cane grows taller | |
| Than the God we once believed in | |
| Till 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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