If I Should Fall From Grace With God (Live At The Olympia, Paris / 2012)

If I should fall from grace with God
Where no doctor can relieve me
If I'm buried neath the sod
But the angels won't receive me
Let me go, boys! Let me go, boys!
Let me go down in the mud where the rivers all run dry
This land was always ours
Was the proud land of our fathers
It belongs to us and them
Not to any of the others
Let them go, boys! Let them go, boys!
Let 'em go down in the mud where the rivers all run dry
Bury me at sea
Where no murdered ghost can haunt me
If I rock upon the waves
No corpse can lie upon me
Coming up threes, boys! Coming up threes, boys!
Let them go down in the mud where the rivers all run dry
If I should fall from grace with God
Where no doctor can relieve me
If I'm buried neath the sod
Still the angels won't receive me
Let me go, boys! Let me go, boys!
Let me go down in the mud where the rivers all run dry