Lyrics: Jones
Music: Jones
Lyrics:
One strange land
Was built from the sea
Put a crown to the castle
No strange land
Could break the glass
That cuts all the cats down
I heard the captains voice
No choice to listen up
To your masses
I heard the captain's voice
Like a whistle in the breeze
I'm going to the coast of Manhattan
With a bag full of blues
And a yellow canary
Captain he spoke
In a voice from the Ivory Coast
Saying there's no passion in perfection
My son
Pull the flag down
Let dust settle back
On the rose-colored glasses
Pull the flag down
And watch it whistle in the breeze
One last hope that lies
Like a monkey that flies
To the scent of molasses
One last hope that lies
I watch it whistle to the Bees
Agents of Good Roots - One Strange Land Lyrics
Agents of Good Roots - One Strange Land Lyrics
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We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
Lyrics: Jones
Music: Jones
Lyrics:
One strange land
Was built from the sea
Put a crown to the castle
No strange land
Could break the glass
That cuts all the cats down
I heard the captains voice
No choice to listen up
To your masses
I heard the captain's voice
Like a whistle in the breeze
I'm going to the coast of Manhattan
With a bag full of blues
And a yellow canary
Captain he spoke
In a voice from the Ivory Coast
Saying there's no passion in perfection
My son
Pull the flag down
Let dust settle back
On the rose-colored glasses
Pull the flag down
And watch it whistle in the breeze
One last hope that lies
Like a monkey that flies
To the scent of molasses
One last hope that lies
I watch it whistle to the Bees
Music: Jones
Lyrics:
One strange land
Was built from the sea
Put a crown to the castle
No strange land
Could break the glass
That cuts all the cats down
I heard the captains voice
No choice to listen up
To your masses
I heard the captain's voice
Like a whistle in the breeze
I'm going to the coast of Manhattan
With a bag full of blues
And a yellow canary
Captain he spoke
In a voice from the Ivory Coast
Saying there's no passion in perfection
My son
Pull the flag down
Let dust settle back
On the rose-colored glasses
Pull the flag down
And watch it whistle in the breeze
One last hope that lies
Like a monkey that flies
To the scent of molasses
One last hope that lies
I watch it whistle to the Bees