Lyrics:
8 THE POETS OF THE TOMB BY HENRY LAWSON
THE WORLD HAS HAD ENOUGH OF BARDS WHO WISH THAT THEY WERE DEAD
TIS TIME, THE PEOPLE PASSED A LAW TO KNOCK
existence with consistence in my polo shirt
Then reassert my confidence with compliments I don't deserve
I calm my nerves by plotting for the day that I might
of danger even
Though we live in a world infinitely safer
And more predictable than
Anything our ancestors knew with their help
Our anxieties have only
Remember last election
Everybody was in action
Tryin' to find themselves a president
There was a man named Lawson
From New York down to Boston
to do
You show me how it is
But I don't need you
To show me how to live
My crystal ball
My crystal ball
My crystal ball
OK
Cuttin' school playin' hook
His dad was a miner and his granddad was too
There was never much question about what he might do
By the age of thirteen he had laid down his pen
the grave he lay, he lay, he lay
It's Liffy Stokes with the sticky smoke
Quick to shoot a muthafucka down if he choke
Never see me in yo city broke, in
my dick sucked in broad daylight
Acting bad on the soil acting tough
Break your ass down like 12-gauge Doyle bluff
You know if, ooh, that's what
hello, Mr James!
DH Lawrence: Never heard of it
EM Forster: Never heard of it!
Happy the man, and happy he alone who in all honesty can call today his
His dad was a miner and his granddad was too
There was never much question about what he might do
By the age of thirteen he had laid down his pen
the birds singing, God is there
Ah look at the trees me see the breeze blowing, God is there
My God He lives, My God He lives, My God he lives
My God He
you, but I live without your love
Our poet Henry Lawson, he named them, the lay'em out brigade
Here they come, there they go, oh great god
the corner of Lawson
And Alston, I would proceed with caution
These motherfucka's really think the 'Te done lost it
He sold a couple records now they think
The sound of the waves on the embankment
A phone in my left pocket
I'm leaving, you're staying
A forgotten city by me
You're so beautiful, my dream hasn't
The City Bushman - In Answer to "Banjo," and Otherwise by Henry Lawson - Part B
WOULD YOU LIKE TO CHANGE WITH CLANCY -- GO A-DROVING? TELL US TRUE,
Osama that he's fired
Now Imma smart guy
What the hell's this royal wedding?
I bought the palace and I'll move
In when I'm fuckin' ready
So when you see
interviews
Ocean drive
Yeah, that Roll's rented
Tell me, what's the difference when your hoes in it?
Niggas telling stories, they got hoes ended
Only
dm you cannot be mine
We sent him the addy, he ain' trynna slide
Perc in my pocket send me to the sky
This Wock got me laggin' like my ping is high
He
Boston
You was nice
Got to the league
Now you Lawson
Lost in the sauce
Mislead by your dogs
Gotta learn to win
Even if it's a lost
Toy soldiers only tough
reports world news as
They report about me, we're in trouble
Are you saying that
No, wait, let me finish have you thought of
The chance I'm taking by
put all of our face on fox five
Most of these niggas is pussy got nine lives
I'ma pull up with that mac ten
He got hit in the face should've seen his
one of us
If you're Irish this is the place for you
Oh me name is McNamara
I'm the leader of the band
Although we're small in number
We're the finest
everything
And Rip his father he loved em and dat a never change
And when we hit dem bumps in da road we growed closer
Its no mystery we all gotta die
To meet
of the One above
I follow Him
And He
Takes care of everything for me
He is able to make all grace abound towards me
So, I will always have sufficiency in
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