The Revenge of John Jr, Industrialist Nightmare

Checkered black, Like kitchen tiles, You’ll never see ‘em
I met my friends at the far end of the mausoleum
With a pocket full of pennies like it’s murder season
Boy I been on my block I don’t need a reason

It was 1822 and as my fathers fortune devalued
I sold my soul to enroll made a million off of charcoal

Got a Jacket but I wear it like a suit coat, Catch me under lamp posts
I’ve been dead 100 years My moneys getting old so:

I’m Hoppin out of coffins
From the 1800’s cracked
And I wanna get my money back

I’m gonna gеt my money back
I’m gonna show you how we did it in the past

I camе back to life broke
I used to be a rich folk
But I’m tired of sleeping under graves so:

I’m gonna get my money back
I’m gonna get my money back

I used to own the whole estate
The line would go for miles till it reached the main gate
I fell in love with the daughter of a wealthy sugar farmer
He forbid me from her marriage
I slipped sarin in is water

I put my brother in office
Because I paid off the polls
The north got stressed
And the press said “The election had been stole”

And when the town found out
I pinned the north against the south
They hung me for tampering
But I swore Id be back in a century