Lyrics:
of the broadford bazaar. Out of the north, no oil-rigs are drifting. And jobs for the many are down to the few. Blue-bottle choppers, they visit no longer.
of the Broadford Bazaar. Out of the north, no oil-rigs are drifting. And jobs for the many are down to the few. Blue-bottle choppers, they visit no longer. Like
ma had come very far And if my pa was an oil-rig big-wig around our money town If I were rich enough To give you entertainment in the manner that
And they drowned like that Via paleontology, fossily is how they mostly found like that Bones in the stones, that's if you soil-dig But if you oil-rig
with its sweetened flavour Watch out for familiar faces Nostalgia you don't wanna visit Had less when the spy v. spy on the oilrig Simpler times need
of the masses move with strong tactics Blue collared like a blacksmith im that kid Built like an oilrig you can’t move disilluse or exclude me Aaron Maurice
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