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Song:Another Bag Of Bricks (Acousti
Album:Whiskey on a SundayGenres:Celtic
Year:2006 Length:235 sec

Lyricist: Flogging Molly

Lyrics:

T'was in the early evening near the presence of the moon
You told me you would meet me here, well now is not too soon
This dagger twisting in my back tells me I never should
Have trusted everything to fall from beggar to the fool

I see your face like every race, a serpent with two arms
Devouring me while rains the sun with dreams of foreign lands
This cold and dark, tormented hell is all I'll ever know
So when you get to heaven, may the devil be your judge

With another bag of bricks

I scratch your name across these walls and with my blood, turns red
Then drips upon the killing floor which now I call my bed
No precious light to harbor like so many here before
With every drop of blood you take, now breaths a thousand more

With another bag of bricks

Temper filled with blindness leads this lost and lonely man
Dragged around your whipping tree, a scourge you can't command
So you deafen me with silence, drown me with your roar
Scour me with your hollow eyes, still burning to the core

No door will go unanswered like so many closed before
No vagabond to knock upon this tired and beaten war
When all return from exile, free from all once bound
Through cannonballs of parasites, the truth will yet be found

With another bag of bricks

This cold and dark, tormented hell is all I'll ever know
So when you get to heaven, may the devil be your judge

With another bag of bricks




 

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