MountainThe Laird

Pappalardi-Collins) The Laird is arriving He ran to the east He stood in the courthouse Pleading his case His crime was a passion An aching for peace And he's not alone And he's not alone And he's not alone And he's not alone Let my people go His soul is on paper Freshly changed And white men they keep him Oh and not changing And he's not around, yeah And he's not around Hes not around Hes not around, yeah Let my people go
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