This is probably just about final now.
Thanks to all you guys who commented in it.
Brothers True ― Justin Cayce
You can prise my gun out-of my cold, dead hand
Out-of my cold, dead hand, out-of my cold, dead hand
You can prise my gun out-of my cold, dead hand
Out-of my cold, dead hand -you can prise my gun
Now Freddie played the guitar and he often sang for John
And Johnnie he would listen till the evening had grown long
Cause Johnnie love to hear his brother sing of being free
And Johnnie dreamed 'bout how he'd fight for liberty
You can prise my gun out-of my cold, dead hand
Out-of my cold, dead hand, out-of my cold, dead hand
You can prise my gun out-of my cold, dead hand
Out-of my cold, dead hand -you can prise my gun
Now Freddie played and sang his song, and often played the fool
But brother John was serious - considering life cruel
While Freddie, sang of freedom - with words which were inspired
Big John acquired the tools the task required
You can prise my gun out-of my cold, dead hand
Out-of my cold, dead hand, out-of my cold, dead hand
You can prise my gun out-of my cold, dead hand
Out-of my cold, dead hand -you can prise my gun
And y'already know why Freddie’s songs are full of tears
Cause in a country fit for heroes -Johnnie ain’t around to hear
He paid the price for Freddie to know freedom isn’t free
And Fred remembers John each day - by being all that he can be
And you can… Prise my gun…
Yes, you can… prise my gun…
ŠJustin Cayce 2009
ŠJustin Cayce 2009