Paroles:
Robert Pollard Flings Of The Waistcoat Crowd

Paroles

Robert Pollard. Flings Of The Waistcoat Crowd. Robert Pollard. Jette de la foule Gilet.
...

Great days are becoming A matchlight liquor establishment Where the factory soaks its scabs It hangs there like insectrocutioner Over the big river Scum

Paroles

Original: Robert Pollard. Flings Of The Waistcoat Crowd.

Traduction: Robert Pollard. Jette de la foule Gilet.

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