n the alpine villiage of Boyence
Bare-chested and wearing amulets
Three hundred machete-weilding peasants,
The three hundred inhabitants,
Heard the noises made when icebergs crack
It's quite an eerie sound to here the Earth ripping apart like dat

In a village close to the border
Demonstrations and rioting can occur with little or no warning
Cheering and youthful pilgrams on the streets by the millions
And a command from her majesty
To order our national flowers or virgins
To converge at the Luetezieni palace on Sunday
So that they can drop their woolen tassles on Monday
Beyond a backdrop of banditry and armed rivalry
Ingeniusly barbaric machete-weilding peasants
Perform victory jigs in idolitry

Three sailors were drowned in lake
When they became entangled in underwater vegetation
Creating murky plume that stretched for miles
To a make-shift morgue
'Farewell, Cousin, because here we're frozen'
Said Hans Rutie, a successful Swiss corn broker
Ander was swept away by a swollen torrent overnight
He used to dance at the souveinr shop
Between two arrant strips of cloth
Media critic, David Shah, dies alone at 62


Lyrics submitted by fleurvert

Border Village song meanings
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