Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Tobacco Island, artist - Flogging Molly. Date of issue: 13.09.2004
Song language: English
Tobacco Island |
| Off to hell we must sail for the shores of sweet Barbados |
| Where the sugar cane grows taller than the God we once believed in The butcher and his crown raped the land we used to sleep in Now tomorrow chimes of ghostly crimes that haunt Tobacco Island |
| 'Twas 1659 forgotten now for sure |
| They dragged us from our homeland wit' their musket and their gun |
| Cromwell and his roundheads battered all we knew |
| Shackled hopes of freedom; |
| we’re now but stolen goods |
| Dark is the horizon, blackened from the sun |
| This rotten cage of Bridgetown is where I now belong |
| Off to hell we must sail for the shores of sweet Barbados |
| Where the sugar cane grows taller than the God we once believed in The butcher and his crown raped the land we used to sleep in Now tomorrow chimes of ghostly crimes that haunt Tobacco Island |
| Red leg down a peg blistered burns the soul |
| The floggings they’re a plenty but reasons there are none |
| Our backs belong to landlords where branded is thier name |
| Paid for with ten shillings cheap labor never breaks |
| The silver moon is shinin', cools the copper blood |
| Where the livin' meet the dead and together dance as one |
| Off to hell we must sail for the shores of sweet Barbados |
| Where the sugar cane grows taller than the God we once believed in The butcher and his crown raped the land we used to sleep in Now tomorrow chimes of ghostly crimes that haunt Tobacco Island |
| Agony, |
| will you cleanse this misery? |
| For it’s never again I’ll breathe the air of home |
| From this sandy edge |
| The rolling sea breaks my revenge |
| With each whisper a thousand waves I hear roar |
| I’m coming home |
| Dark is the horizon |
| Blackened by the sun |
| This rotten cage of Bridgetown |
| Is where I now belong |
| Off to hell we must sail for the shores of sweet Barbados |
| Where the sugar cane grows taller than the God we once believed in The butcher and his crown raped the land we used to sleep in Now tomorrow chimes of ghostly crimes that haunt Tobacco Island |