Ourland Songtext

von Terry Allen

Ourland is my land
Her history is calling me
From the shoes of another land
To ourland across the sea

Well I fancy a bomb inside my head
Ticking for the men
And I'll put it in a little cafe
And blow ?em to hell again
An I fancy a pistol in my coat
Loaded for the kill
And we'll gun the ones who run outside
I swear by god we will

Ourland is my land
Her history is calling me
From the shoes of another land
To ourland across the sea

An I fancy a knife inside my pants
Bone handled razor sharp
An we'll run ones that survive the blast
And cut them in the dark
An I fancy my hands behind the wheel
An their wounded a?laying down
And we'll punch the gas and run it fast
An grind them in the ground

Ourland is my land
Her history is calling me
From the shoes of another land
To ourland across the sea

An I fancy their widows under me
Squealin with delight
So we'll have our fun then when we're done
We'll garrote them in the night
An we fancy their children a crying then
But we will pat their heads
And sing them to sleep with a fireman's song
Then burn them in their beds

Ourland is my land
Her history is calling me
From the shoes of another land
To ourland across the sea