Tobacco Lyrics - Flogging Molly

Off to hell we must sail for the shores of sweet Barbados 

Where the sugar cane grows taller than the God we once believed in 

The butcher and his crown raped the land we used to sleep in 

Now tomorrow chimes of ghostly crimes that haunt Tobacco Island 

'Twas 1659 forgotten now for sure 

They dragged us from our homeland wit' their musket and their gun 

Cromwell and his round heads battered all we knew 

Shackled hopes of freedom, we're now but stolen goods 

Dark is the horizon, blackened from the sun 

This rotten cage of Bridgetown is where I now belong 

Off to hell we must sail for the shores of sweet Barbados 

Where the sugar cane grows taller than the God we once believed in 

The butcher and his crown raped the land we used to sleep in 

Now tomorrow chimes of ghostly crimes that haunt Tobacco Island 

Red leg down a peg blistered burns the soul 

The floggings they're a plenty but reasons there are none 

Our backs belong to landlords where branded is their name 

Paid for with ten shillings cheap labor never breaks 

The silver moon is shinin', cools the copper blood 

Where the livin' meet the dead and together dance as one 

Off to hell we must sail for the shores of sweet Barbados 

Where the sugar cane grows taller than the God we once believed in 

The butcher and his crown raped the land we used to sleep in 

Now tomorrow chimes of ghostly crimes that haunt Tobacco Island 

Agony, will you cleanse this misery? 

For it's never again I'll breathe the air of home 

From this sandy edge 

The rolling sea breaks my revenge 

With each whisper a thousand waves I hear roar 

I'm coming home 

Dark is the horizon 

Blackened by the sun 

This rotten cage of Bridgetown 

Is where I now belong 

Off to hell we must sail for the shores of sweet Barbados 

Where the sugar cane grows taller than the God we once believed in 

The butcher and his crown raped the land we used to sleep in 

Now tomorrow chimes of ghostly crimes that haunt Tobacco Island 

Off to hell we must sail for the shores of sweet Barbados 

Where the sugar cane grows taller than the God we once believed in 

The butcher and his crown raped the land we used to sleep in 

Now tomorrow chimes of ghostly crimes that haunt Tobacco Island