“Where e'er we go, we celebrate The land that makes us refugees From fear of priests with empty plates From guilt and weeping effigies And we dance!”
Where e'er we go, we celebrate The land that makes us refugees From fear of priests with empty plates From guilt and weeping effigies And we dance!
RIP Phil Chevron. 5
Simply the best song ever written
And some ugly truth, beautifully told.
I had a nostalgic morning on the train
The island it is silent now...