Chorus:
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Ourland is my land
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Her history is calling me
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From the shoes of another land
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To ourland across the sea
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Well I fancy a bomb inside my head
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Ticking for the men
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And I?l put it in a little cafe
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And blow ?m to hell again
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An I fancy a pistol in my coat
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Loaded for the kill
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And we?l gun the ones who run outside
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I swear by god we will
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Chorus
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An I fancy a knife inside my pants
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Bone handled razor sharp
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An we?l run ones that survive the blast
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And cut them in the dark
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An I fancy my hands behind the wheel
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An their wounded a?aying down
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And we?l punch the gas and run it fast
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An grind them in the ground
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Chorus
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An I fancy their widows under me
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Squealin with delight
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So we'll have our fun then when we?e done
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We'll garrote them in the night
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An we fancy their children a crying then
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But we will pat their heads
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And sing them to sleep with a fireman? song
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Then burn them in their beds
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Chorus repeats
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Ourland
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| Terry Allen |
