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Hippies

de Jonathan Winters

As the fog clears we hit the land.
Shields and swords in callused hands.
Storm the village, burnt to the ground.
A city of life now a burial mound.

Chorus:
Trans Atlantic boat men.
Seafaring fighting hoard.
Guided by the blade and axe,
To the shores of this new world.
Tired, cold and hungry.
Hope and wills that just won't bend.
They found themselves in a new land.
Far beyond the horizon's end.

We claim this land as our own.
This mighty mission we will fulfill.
Iron verses wood and stone.
These savages lined up for the kill.

Chorus:
Trans Atlantic boat men.
Seafaring fighting hoard.
Guided by the blade and axe,
To the shores of this new world.
Tired, cold and hungry.
Hope and wills that just won't bend.
They found themselves in a new land.
Far beyond the horizon's end.

(Solo - Martin)

Chorus:
Trans Atlantic boat men.
Seafaring fighting hoard.
Guided by the blade and axe,
To the shores of this new world.
Tired, cold and hungry.
Hope and wills that just won't bend.
They found themselves in a new land.
Far beyond the horizon's end.

(Solo - Martin)

(Solo - Adams)

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