Il testo della Ourland

Terry Allen

Chorus:
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 il put it in a little cafe
And blow m to hell again
An i fancy a pistol in my coat
Loaded for the kill
And wel gun the ones who run outside
I swear by god we will

Chorus

An i fancy a knife inside my pants
Bone handled razor sharp
An wel run ones that survive the blast
And cut them in the dark
An i fancy my hands behind the wheel
An their wounded aaying down
And wel punch the gas and run it fast
An grind them in the ground

Chorus

An i fancy their widows under me
Squealin with delight
So we'll have our fun then when wee 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 song
Then burn them in their beds
Chorus repeats