' up over New York city School bus driver in a traffic jam Starin' at the faces in her rear view mirror Looking at the promise of the promised land One
A song by a band called "Marxman" containing background vocals by Sinead. ------------------------------------------------- A thousand cultures stolen
gonna mess me round Hey Satan, payed my dues Playing in a rocking band Hey Momma, look at me I'm on my way to the promised land I'm on the highway
re spitting out teeth and sinking in the sand Crawling on your knees through the promised land Your barbed-wire baby's got a different plan When a band
Band! Let me hear ya'll say... I vote JESUS! Can I nominate, the canidate, who's actions speak louder than His words? Who else would lay down His life
with me I will sail upon this promised tide for days But the promised tide may lie About the promises it makes I'm a sailor in search of land I'm a player without a band
shinin', c'mon get happy The Lord is waiting to take your hand Shout Hallelujah, c'mon get happy We're gonna be goin' to the Promised Land We're headed
' in the crates ever since I was livin' in space Before the rat race, before monkeys had human traits I mastered numerology, big band theology Performed
of my hair Shot in the head in a bar in Bucharest Blood went all over the floor There was a four piece band The biggest in the land I heard the
again what would she say Chorus She feels like she's stranded somewhere in no man's land Cause her life is like a prisoner's chained to a wedding band
my rock and roll shoes, I'm leaving in the morning, I'm heading for the promised land, Oh baby; look out over there. Ever since I've been playing guitar in a band
back where we belong Take me out back to your promise And beat me until I can't even stand Your whole life, a plane without no landing gear So if this
of words Music inflames temperament (When the true King's murderers are allowed to roam free a 1000 magicians arise in the land) Where are the feasts We were promised
I'm Sambo I'm on the Clear Channel I'm smiling and reading my parchment of prose I talk of the common man and of the promised land But I'm insincere
living fine I had a little stretch of land along the C.P. Line But times were hard, and though I tried, the money wasn't there And bankers came and took my land
to go. My, my, my, I'm so happy, I'm gonna join the band, We are gonna dance and sing in celebration, We are in the promised land. She hears them
me enemies It has performance in demand Violence, a tradition in the Western hemisphere Claim jumpers and land jacker How can I promise you forever When I can't even promise
there noisy bands!" "Damn their souls!" Preacher preaching love like vengeance Preaching love like hate Calling for large donations Promising estates Rolling lawns and angel bands