Chorus:

Ourland is my land

Her history is calling me

From the shoes of another land

To ourland across the sea

Well I fancy a bomb inside my head

Ticking for the men

And I抣l put it in a little cafe

And blow æ…¹m to hell again

An I fancy a pistol in my coat

Loaded for the kill

And we抣l gun the ones who run outside

I swear by god we will



Chorus



An I fancy a knife inside my pants

Bone handled razor sharp

An we抣l run ones that survive the blast

And cut them in the dark

An I fancy my hands behind the wheel

An their wounded a抣aying down

And we抣l punch the gas and run it fast

An grind them in the ground



Chorus



An I fancy their widows under me

Squealin with delight

So we'll have our fun then when we抮e done

We'll garrote them in the night

An we fancy their children a crying then

But we will pat their heads

And sing them to sleep with a fireman抯 song

Then burn them in their beds

Chorus repeats