|
And the pharaoh raised his hand |
|
Said dig a hole in the promised land |
|
The pointing men are marching in a line |
|
They're shooting poison arrows in the sky |
|
These are the last days of paradise row |
|
There's a man knocking on my door |
|
He's playing games with word of the law |
|
A hammer in his hand to break your soul |
|
But the spirit is a house that will not fall |
|
These are the last days of paradise row |
|
Tell me Moses where will your children go |
|
Now the scorpion will go |
|
Where the forest will not grow |
|
And the pharaoh lies behind a golden mask |
|
His pointing men steal water from our well |
|
I don't mind telling you |
|
It makes my heart bleed |
|
I don't mind telling you |
|
It makes my heart bleed |
|
These are the last days of paradise row |
|
Tell me Moses where will your children go? |
|
These are the last days of paradise row |
|
Tell me Moses where will your children go? |
