Humour - Big Money

Want land in the valley,
there’s pieces of you breaking off.
They wear the mark of Arana,
the heat’s too much.
When the heat’s too much,
and pieces get to breaking off,
shaking hands by the water,
in water like a mirror,
The image of a man and
the visage of an old world.

Big money’s in the basin,
you don’t come back without it,
he’s killing with abandon
to get over the mountain,
got darkest rum from Mama
seething in the liver,
blood disease from Papi
poisoning the river
nice and slow.

A vision of an old world
handed down, ushered out.
They wear the mark of his anger,
the heat’s too hot.
When the heat’s too hot
he doesn’t get to turn back.
Feet driven up the hill
and bodies underfoot,
The heel upon the neck and
machinery in tact.

Big money’s in the basin,
you don’t come back without it,
he’s killing with abandon
to get over the mountain,
got darkest rum from Mama
seething in the liver,
blood disease from Papi
poisoning the river
nice and slow

Written by:
Jack Lyall, Andreas Christodoulidis, Ross Patrizio, Ruairidh Smith, Lewis Doig, Rod Jones

Publisher:
Lyrics © Sentric Music

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