goldblade – fighting in the dancehall lyrics
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victorian turrets of wealth and empire greed
paid by the sweat of trade and colonial grief
a mediaeval curse stains this land
the middle ages never seem to end
caravaggio cursed lesser men
drew his sword and murdered some of them
revenge is a dish best served cold
an artist lives life with his own rules
fighting in the dancehall, f-cking in the streets
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