Karaoké Tobacco Island Flogging Molly

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

'Twas sixteen fifty-nine

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 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 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 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 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 rollin' sea breaks my revenge

With each whisper a thousand waves

I hear roar

I'm comin' home

Ha ha ha ha

Dark is the horizon

Blackened by the sun

This rotten cage of Bridgetown is where I now belong yeah

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

Yee hee hee hee

Ow