Stiff Little Fingers
Stiff Little Fingers
Stiff Little Fingers
Stiff Little Fingers
Stiff Little Fingers
Stiff Little Fingers
Stiff Little Fingers
Stiff Little Fingers
Stiff Little Fingers
Stiff Little Fingers
Stiff Little Fingers
Stiff Little Fingers
Stiff Little Fingers
Stiff Little Fingers
Stiff Little Fingers
Stiff Little Fingers
Stiff Little Fingers
Stiff Little Fingers
Stiff Little Fingers
Stiff Little Fingers
Stiff Little Fingers
Stiff Little Fingers
Stiff Little Fingers
(Burns/McCallum)
Gill and Galloway were working late
On a summers night in '58
In a small town Alabama hideaway
In the U.S.A
The two cops were knocking on the door
Of a young black boy
It was a quarter to four
They said:
"Hey nigga! Hit the floor
You're about to be history."
Pop Bickham was the young black man
He couldn't work it out, he didn't understand
But when they come with their guns you do what you can
So he picked up his rifle and he shot them down
They said he killed them in cold blood
And the jury they agreed
They said: "you'll be sorry for what you've done"
And the whole town they agreed
Chorus: