Lyrics:
numm'a pick and shavol ch tiya with this hard labour cm a superstar no be labourer ch tiya with this hard labour cm a superstar no be labourer ch tiya with
to be found Huhuhuhu Make me a Labourer In your Harvest So I may labour And enter in your Rest Make me a Labourer In your Harvest So I may labour
to spread, I pray I'm not ashamed to preach the truth, I pray For the labourers to go, I'm a labourer I go Declare the good news I give myself always to pray
J'AIME LABOURER BOURRé J'aime labourer-bourer, J'aime labourer bourré, J'aime la bourrée bourré, J'aime la bourrer bourré J'aime... Bourrer. (ad
so relied on. Cindy tell me, what will they do with their lives Living quietly like labourer's wives Perhaps they'll re-acquire those things they've
Toujours bêchant, toujours bêchant Pauvre Martin, pauvre misère Creuse la terre, creuse le temps Et quand la mort lui a fait signe De labourer son
Toujours bêchant, toujours bêchant Pauvre Martin, pauvre misère Creuse la terre, creuse le temps Et quand la mort lui a fait signe De labourer son
metal Gods From a casting line From a factory in Mumbai Some manual labourer's bread and butter And a single-minded lie Small metal Gods Cheap
The harvest is plenty The labourers are few Come, come The road may be rocky but His promise is true Hold on to Him and He'll see you through When everybody
Éponge tordue du coeur Le coeur en éponge Dans ma cage Courage courage courage Labourer mon jardin de courage Le coeur en éponge dans ma cage Des
at work Don't ask me for commitment Because it's something I will shirk I'm a bloke, I'm an ocker And I really love your knockers I'm a labourer by day I
an artist, farm labourer's home We wish we might live like them in our own turn Sure dreams of the future will always return So trumpet Hewa for the great
Je ki oku ma sin oku The harvest is raip No labourers to work Pray to God of all harvest To send more labourers to work Jesus said to me My work is
tourelle, tu l'sait J'veux qu'ils dansent la choré, laisse nous élaborer Pas v'nu pour sucer mais tous les labourer J'vois l'coffre sort le foret, leurs corps
toujours bêchant! Pauvre Martin, pauvre misère, Creuse la terr', creuse le temps! Et quand la mort lui a fait signe De labourer son dernier champ, De
a labourer's tool Found George and Gisella in their blue cellar coats And their white wine and splash, like hell afloat With a nose to the breeze, you don't need
day baby I'll be your labourer Tell me what I want to hear and that you're fucking with me I saw you walk into the room like holy fuck she pretty Shit
Paysan de Beauce ou bien de Bretagne. Je vais sans repos labourer les champs Car après l’hiver viendra le printemps, Et je fais sortir, humble prolétaire
Toujours bêchant, toujours bêchant Pauvre Martin, pauvre misère Creuse la terre, creuse le temps Et quand la mort lui a fait signe De labourer son
grant allure, Viellesse m'a donné de sa poincture. Je ne me puis remettre à labourer. Ce poise moy : S'i ne me vient quelque bone adventure, Il m'y
Laughed down by the putting green - I popped 'em in their holes. Four and twenty labourers were labouring - digging up their gold. I don't believe they
the farmers too Call my neighbours, gather the labourers Find my baby for me Gonna get all the rockers, gonna get all the rollers Gonna get everybody I see
a refugee torn from my land Cast off to travel this world to it's end Never to see my proud mountains again But I still remember them I am a labourer, sign
Toujours bêchant, toujours bêchant! Pauvre Martin, pauvre misère Creuse la terre, creuse le temps! Et quand la mort lui a fait signe De labourer son
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