Lyrics:
mans colour
The cotton was high and the corn was growing fine
But that was another place and another time
The cotton was high and the corn was
fought she died
Her blood is on the hillside
We live to tell her story
Children of the corn
With pride she died
Her daughters lay by her side
She's our
hug
No wonder you feel scrubbed
We the children of the Lord
Not the children of the corn
Doesn't matter how we was born
Built it from the dirt
Built it
How is our glorious country plowed?
Not by iron plows
How is our glorious country plowed?
Not by iron plows
Our lands is plows by tanks and feet,
How is our glorious country ploughed?
Not by iron ploughs
How is our glorious country ploughed?
Not by iron ploughs
Our land is ploughed by tanks
Get off my block
Yo who these unfamiliar corn balls
Get off my block
Let's run these niggas off my street corner
Get off my block
Now who
Get off my block
Yo who these unfamiliar corn balls
Get off my block
Let's run these niggas off my street corner
Get off my block
Now who
"We'd like to sing a children's song for you now, that's unique.
It's the only children's song that we've ever encountered
That contains all
Prayed and fasted Demons casted
Name of Christ no curse has lasted
Christian artist
Guess I'm a Target
Bought by the blood
And it ain't
understand us all
We have grown
We are children of the corn
Hey you’re fucking piece of shit did you hear me now?
We are children from the graves, those who
the field "children of the corn"
Hide you in the spot, police steady looking at the board
For yo dead body (body)
You let another dude fuck your ugly shawty
that you showing?
Are you Children of the Corn?
We divided but not torn
All these questions that were formed
Are you scared to take a form?
We need
Sniff a line/ Conquering Lion/ 225th in line/ If we say
We're "Pro-War"/ Only in the fight for peace/ Man, that
Means no war/ Think the price of life is
Some say they done cut whisky out, but you can have a little wine
Most everybody gets on a drunk by drinkin' this ol' moonshine
Now, God don't like
Some say they done cut whisky out, but you can have a little wine
Most everybody gets on a drunk by drinkin' this ol' moonshine
Now God don't like it
Beware little children, of the one in the corn
Beware of his siren-like song
Beware of his potion he pours from the horn
Or he'll steal you away
hanging in the sky
I saw a big black cloud hanging in the sky
And I ask my papa when will it roll by
Oh we're standing on the edge of the world (Ooh)
Scarecrow grins he's growing very tall
Growing tall under the golden sun
Growing with the children of the corn
Sending out the message of a strange
if you are being a dad
Because that is something most children didn't have
Sitting by the riverfront, I kick back and laugh
At all of this drama, it's
before
Living for today
Fuck tomorrow
Don't give a shit
About our children's sorrows
The world won't take it
Whippin' up a storm
We are the scarecrow
Some say they done cut whisky out, but you can have a little wine
Most everybody gets on a drunk by drinkin' this ol' moonshine
Now, God don't like
bleeding
All my niggas children of the corn like Stephen
King, I met this broad she was curvy
Bitch started twerking when them whips start urr-ing
Getting
CHORUS
For forty years our Nicolas
our prince of men, our shepherd
and our gentle guide walked by our side.
We turned to him at birth and death
in
In nodding heads of rape
No mark on your spotless conscience
No blemish on your immaculate body
Untouched by sight or sound of misery
Close
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