Il testo della Oh heartland, up yours!

The stars collected
Each world accounted for
Freed all the children
Seems there is nothing more

If i only had a rowboat i would row it up to heaven
And if heaven would not have me i would take the other option
I will seek out my own satisfaction

From the wight lying in the barrow
To the priest with his broken arrows
There's a method to the madness
They will feign an expression of sadness
A concatenation of locusts
And the farmers are losing their focus
On the pitch of the avenroe grasses
I will sing sing sing to the masses

Oh heartland, up yours

The hollow voice of
The fourteenth century
Too much assumption to be taken seriously
Oh you wrote me like a disney kid in cutoffs and a beater
With a feathered fringe, it doesn't suit a simoniac breeder
Doesn't work doesn't fly doesn't handle

From the wight lying in the barrow
To the priest with his broken arrows
There's a method to the madness
They will feign an expression of sadness
A concatenation of locusts
And the farmers are losing their focus
On the pitch of the avenroe grasses
I will sing sing sing to the masses

Oh heartland, up yours

(my home, my homeland, my homeland)

I will not sing your praises
I will not sing your praises here
I will not sing your praises
I will not sing your praises here
I will not sing your praises
I will not sing your praises
I will not sing your praises
I will not sing your praises here