Born in ’58

Born in a mining town in '58 When black and white TV was up to date And men were still around Who fought for freedom, stood their ground and died That I could be alive and see the damage That we've managed since In this sceptered isle, is nothing sacred Just a one square mile Justice and liberty You can buy but you don't get free In a world of steel and glass We bury our past On and on, we slept till dawn When we awoke, we hardly spoke My grandfather taught me how to fight Old fashioned stuff like wrong and right But all around I see his morals buried in a mess Of money troubles, born in a mining town in '58 When black and white TV was up to date And men were still around Who fought for freedom, stood their ground and died Justice and liberty You can buy but you don't get free In a world of steel and glass We bury our past On and on, we slept till dawn On and on and on Justice and liberty You can buy but you don't get free In a world of steel and glass We bury our past Justice and liberty You can buy but you don't get free In a world of steel and glass We bury our past On and on, we slept till dawn When we awoke, it was, all the same

Submitted by johnmansley — Apr 26, 2025

Tattooed boys with expensive toys. Living in a bubble of sin. Money can buy you most of anything. Fix your nose or the mess your in. Front page news you can share your views. With a population that wants to be like you. Out on the strip. Out on the tiles. Same old greed behind the PR smiles. You and all your entourage. To me your all the same. You and all your entourage. Playing foolish games. [CHORUS:] I don't want your big city shining. I don't want your silver lining. I don't wanna be a tattooed millionaire. He's got a wife, she ain't no brain child. EX mud queen of Miami. In his stretch cadillac, he keeps her in the back. With his CD player and his bottle of Jack. LA dude. LA Attitude. Laid back, selfish and getting fat. Body gaurds, Porn Stars, Gold credit cards. Using each other. Running for cover. [CHORUS.]

Submitted by Dahmers Fridge — Apr 26, 2025

Holy was the preacher. Riding on his rig of steel in the rising sun. This was no grim reaper. But a man with a smile who took a pride in a job well done. Ohh in a blood red sunrise. He's preaching conversion as you lay down and die. Just a god given holy roller. In a god forsaken land. He didn't choose this killing ground. He didn't want this scrap of land. You've got to scorch the earth, yeah. and make the rivers run dry. Untill we learn to hate like him. Kill for killin'. Live to die. [CHORUS:] Ride on you son of a gun. Ride on. Ride into the setting sun. You've gotta be a hero, for one last time. To prove through your destruction. That killing is a great way of life. There's a wooden cross somewhere. Where they'll bury you down deep. You lie to your people, You lie to yourself. Your in love with death babe. You've got no shame. [CHORUS] The preacher laughed. The preacher cried. He loaded bullets as he smiled. Congregation sat and wondered. Would they live or would they die. Just an ordinary man, with his orders and his plans. In the shadows of a cross. Oh in a blood red sunrise. Take me to jesus, with judas my guide. [CHORUS] Ride on your bleeding heart. Ride on you play no part. Ride on you feel no pity. Ride on you feel no pain. Ride into history.

Submitted by VladTheImpaler666 — Apr 26, 2025