. Stone by stone, yeah we made it last,. But maybe love is a careless craft. We were young and afraid to fall. Cause we'd never been in love before. With each tick-tock as the time was passed. Baby
waiting in death row You can crush us. You can bruise us. But you'll have to answer to. Oh, guns of BrixtonThe money feels good. And your life you like it well. But surely your time will come. As in
They hear my Brixton briefcase from across the pond. London's burning but the beat goes on. Feel my power, the electrical life. Real rude boys own the town tonight We don't need no fighting, all
Song Kingston Market - Harry Belafonte. Have you ever seen a rainbow. Or a garden blooming bright. Heard the shuffle of a thousand feet. And drums from morning 'til night?. Come we go down, come we
A currency of heartache and sorrow. The air we breathe is stale with mold. To shadows we are slaves digging deeper every day. But emptiness is growing so old Headlamps light the tunnels we wander
profit. Picture perfect, gonna crop it. Easy I'm splittin' knowledge. I get it and I got it. The black market. Black market. Black market. On a black market. On a black black market
flushed with fever, embarassed by the crowd. I felt he'd found my letters and read each one out loud. I prayed that he would finish, but he just kept right on. . Strumming my pain with his fingers
my tab. Run until my legs go numb, I don't plan on looking back. Anything you need you can find it at themarket. If you don't hold me down for all I care you can starve bitch. I'm a feed the world
flashes. That's the way themarket crashes. That's the way the whip lashes. That's the way the teeth knashes. That's the way the gravy stains. That's the way the moon wanes
what happens after the fire. And then the sound of a breaking window and the scream of a tire. And then the sound of Brixton gun and the scream of a child. The night is hot. But nothing's going to
what happens after the fire. And then the sound of a breaking window and the scream of a tire. And then the sound of Brixton gun and the scream of a child. The night is hot. But nothing's going to
Song Kingston Market - Harry Belafonte. Have you ever seen a rainbow. Or a garden blooming bright. Heard the shuffle of a thousand feet. And drums from morning 'til night?. Come we go down, come we