| Givin’out my warning…
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| Now you rich people listen to me Weep and wail over the miseries
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| That are coming, coming up on you
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| Your riches have rotted away
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| And your clothes have been eaten by moth
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| Your gold and silver is covered with rust
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| And this rust will be witness against you
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| And eat up your flesh like fire
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| You have piled up your riches in these last days
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| But heads a go roll down Sandy Gully one of these days
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| Heads a go roll down Sandy Gully that’s what Marcus says
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| Your life here on earth have been filled with luxury and pleasure
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| You have made yourself fat for the day of slaughter
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| You’ve not paid the men that work in your fields
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| The cries of those that gather your crops
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| Have reached the ears of Jah, Jah Almighty
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| Heads a go roll down Sandy Gully one of these days
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| Heads a go roll down Sandy Gully that’s what Marcus says
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| Dog up a Beverley Hills a eat T-bone steak an’drink cornflakes
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| While poor people in the ghetto a rake an’scrape to get a cake
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| Be patient my brother be patient as a farmer is patient
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| As he waits for the autumn and the spring rains to water his crops
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| You also must be patient and keep your hopes up high
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| Happy are those who greatest desire is to do what Jah Jah require
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| Heads a go roll down Sandy Gully one of these days
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| Heads a go roll down Sandy Gully that’s what Marcus says
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| Bald head a go roll down Sandy Gully one of these days
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| Heads a go roll down Sandy Gully that’s what Marcus says
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| I say; |
| you look, you look, you look and you can’t see…
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| I said; |
| you listen, you listen, you listen and you can’t hear… |