Songtexte Shanty Town People - The Mighty Sparrow

Fire and brimstone up in Laventille
We are living on the hill, some people move in by me
I was so happy on the hill, never had trouble
'Til they build housing project and bring shanty town people
Lord I planning to move away, I ain't staying there, no not me
But I'm broken and ah bawling, "No money to pay, you see!"
And the only available apartments around
Is where they move from the Shanty-Town

And big Sunday evening
They drinking, they cussing, they fighting
Beating pan, they beating and bup-bup!
Iron-bolt and stone pelting
Send for the police
Still the bacchanal won't cease
So they violent, so they fas
They better go back to their mansion on the Labasse

So much decent people live in Laventille so long
Always getting grim 'bout them rats that leave Shanty-Town
And they so dishonest, they ain't have no mind
They even thief meh girlfriend brassiere hanging on the line
Well I never see trouble so mama since ah born, no no no
Meh fowl and meh turkey and meh pigeon gone, ah-huh!
Meh girl bring a police to get back she clothes
And then he kill he and she with blows

And big Sunday morning
They fighting, they cussing, they gambling
Beating pan, they beating and bup-bup!
Iron-bolt and stone pelting
Send for the police
Still the bacchanal don't cease
So they violent, so they fas
They better go back to their mansion on the Labasse

Ah pack up my belongings to move out next day
You better bring up that truck as to take me to Claxton Bay
Because ah fed up and ah disgust with them parasite
When you living in a neighbourhood like that you bound to get blight
But they sit down in meh driveway with a Shango drum, oh Lawd
Every man with a flambeau and they drinking rum like mad
And they want me to bounce them with meh jitney to get insurance money

Big Sunday evening
They fighting, they cussing, they gambling
Beating pan, they beating and bup-bup!
Iron-bolt and stone pelting
Send for the police
Still the bacchanal don't cease
So they violent, so they fas
They better go back to their mansion on the Labasse

Ah can't live there and they won't allow me to go
Whether morning, noon or night they have a watchman in front meh door
A short black one, always bareback with dada head
Ah catch him passing through meh window and he threaten to kill me dead
Well they break down meh jalousie even though it nailed on me
They guarding meh bedroom as if I in jail, you see
They thief all meh furniture and carry it to pawn
Set fire to meh house and gone

Big Sunday morning
They cussing, they fighting, they gambling
Beating pan, they beating and bup-bup!
Iron-bolt and stone pelting
Send for the police
Still the bacchanal don't cease
So they violent, so they fas
They better go back to their mansion on the Labasse