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Fighting In The Dancehall by Goldblade

Fighting In The Dancehall lyrics

Victorian Turrets of wealth and empire greed
Paid by the sweat of trade and colonial grief
A mediaeval curse stains this land
The middle ages never seem to end

Caravaggio cursed lesser men
Drew his sword and murdered some of them
Revenge is a dish best served cold
An artist lives life with his own rules

Fighting in the dancehall, fucking in the streets

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Goldblade Fighting In The Dancehall lyrics

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