Songtext:
Ignacio lay dying in the sand Redaktionssystem A single red rose clutched in a dying hand The women wept to see their hero die Schilder und Beschriftungen And the big black birds gathered in the sky Immobilien Winterberg Mother of all our joys, mother of all our sorrows Intercede with him tonight monrose klingeltöne For all of our tomorrows JPG verkleinern The years went by and then the killers came And took the men and marched them up the hill of pain finca mallorca andratx And lorca the faggot poet they left till last Blew his brains out with a pistol up his arse Notizzettel
Mother of all our joys, mother of all our sorrows Intercede with him tonight For all of our tomorrows
The killers came to mutilate the dead But ran away in terror to search the town instead But lorca's corpse, as he had prophesied, just walked away And the only sound was the women in the chapel praying
Mother of all our joys, mother of all our sorrows Intercede with him tonight For all of our tomorrows
