C / Crobot / Good Times In The Badlands
I went out to Rapid City That's where they told me that he lived He was the last known shaman of the Nakoya clan This ancient descendant of Passaconaway
He knows the right moves to put existence back into a dead man The evil men crawling up from the canyons My mouth feelin' dry, good times in the badlands Run, Mr. President
"Pray to the thunderbird" Is what he instructed me to do He knows where the bones lie In fact, he scattered them there for you Ridin' three-toed horses A brood skeletal intellect
We need an army of fearless men to fight the tyrant government The evil men crawling up from the canyons My mouth feelin' dry, good times in the badlands Run, Mr. President, justice won't save you from the necromance, oh
No, it won't Oh
Streaks of lightning Strike the ground where we stand Hear the howl of the wolf That leads us to the heavens, yeah Light the cedar incense Pathway to the fourth world
Ashes to trees and ice to fire, this Indian gun for hire The evil men crawling up from the canyons My mouth feelin' dry, good times in the badlands Run, Mr. President, justice won't save me from the necromance, oh
No, no, no, no, no, no Oh no, no, no, no, no, no, no Good, good, good, good times in the badland, yeah Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa. |
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