Swampland - The Birthday Party



     
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Swampland Lyrics


Quicksand, I'm in it's grip
Quicksand, I'm in it's grip
A sinken in the mud
Patron saint of the bog
They come with boots of blood
With pitchfork and with club
And they're chantin' out my name
And they got doggies screamin' on a chainLucy, I'll love you till the end
They hunt me like a dog
Down in swamp landSo come my executioner
Come my bounty hunter
Come my county killers
I cannot run no more
I cannot run no more
I cannot run no more
No, I can't, noOh, Lucy, you won't see this face again
When I caught you swing and burn
Down in swamp landThe trees are veiled in fog

The trees are veiled in fog
Like so many jilted brides
Hey and now they're all breakin down and cryin'
Splashing tears upon my face
Splashing tears cold upon my face
And they smell of gasoline, I screamLucy, you made a sinner right out of me
And now I'm burnin' like a saint
Down in swamp landSo come my executioner
Come my bounty hunter
Come my county killers
I cannot run no more
I cannot run no more
I cannot run no more
I cannot run no more
No, I can'tDown in swamp land

Enjoy the lyrics !!!

The Birthday Party were an Australian post-punk band, from 1977 to 1983. Formed in Melbourne, the band were one of the darkest and most challenging post-punk groups to emerge in the early '80s, creating bleak and noisy soundscapes that provided the perfect setting for vocalist NIck Cave's difficult, disturbing stories of religion, violence, and perversity. Their sound drew upon punk, rockabilly, free jazz and the rawest blues, but transcended concise categorization.

Read more about The Birthday Party on Last.fm.


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The Birthday Party