Now you rich people listen to me Weep and wail over the miseries That are coming, coming up on you Your riches have rotted away And your clothes have been eaten by moth Your gold and silver Is covered with rust And this rust will be witness against you And eat up your flesh like fire You have piled up your riches In these last days
But heads a go roll down Sandy Gully One of these days Heads a go roll down Sandy Gully That's what Marcus says
Your life here on earth have been filled With luxury and pleasure You have made yourself fat For the day of slaughter You have not paid the men that work in your fields The cries of those that gather your crops Have reached the ears of Jah, Jah Almighty
Heads a go roll down Sandy Gully One of these days Heads a go roll down Sandy Gully That's what Marcus says
Dog up a Beverley Hills A eat T-bone steak an' drink cornflakes While poor people in the ghetto a rake an' scrape To get a cake
Be patient my brother be patient As a farmer is patient As he waits for the autumn and the spring rains To water his crops You also must be patient And keep your hopes up high Happy are those who greatest desire Is to do what Jah Jah require
Heads a go roll down Sandy Gully One of these days Heads a go roll down Sandy Gully That's what Marcus says Bald head a go roll down Sandy Gully One of these days Heads a go roll down Sandy Gully That's what Marcus says I say; you look, you look, you look And you can't see... I said; you listen, you listen, you listen And you can't hear...
Compositor: Maxie Smith ECAD: Obra #17997949 Fonograma #17076126