Christy Moore все тексты (слова) песен, переводы, видео, клипы

There was a woman and she lived on her own,
Slaved on her own and skivvied on her own,
She'd two little boys and two little girls --
She lived all alone with her husband.

He was a hunk of a man
A chunk of a man and a drunk of a man,
A hunk of a drunken skunk of a man

Black is the colour of my true love's hair,
Her lips are like some roses fair,
She's the sweetest smile, And the gentlest hands,
I love the ground, Whereon she stands.

I love my love and well she knows,
I love the ground, whereon she goes,
I wish the day, it soon would come,

Black is the colour of my true loves hair
Her lips are like some roses fair
She has the sweetest smile and the gentlest hands
And I love the ground whereon she stands
I love my love and well she knows
I love the ground whereon she goes
I wish that day would soon come
When she and I can be as one

By Clyde's bonny banks as I slowly did wander
Among the pit heaps as the evening grew nigh
I spied a young woman all dressed in black mourning
Weeping and wailing with many a sigh
I stepped up beside her and gently addressed her
Would it help you to talk about the cause of your pain?
Weeping and wailing at last she did answer
Johnny Murphy, kind sir, is my true lover's name.

I skimmed across black water, without once submerging
Onto the banks of an urban morning
That hungers the first light, much much more
Than mountains ever do

And she like a ghost beside me goes down with the ease of a dolphin
And emerges unlearned, unshamed, unharmed
For she is the perfect creature, natural in every

[C] it's drink you[F] want[C] and plenty [G]of feeding
[F]And you like the[G] bed as[C] well
[C]Grab the [F]wife, thr[C]ow the kids in the[G] Datsun
[F]Make for Inch and the[G] Strand ho[C]tel
If[C] talk of turf [F]drives [C]you crazy
And you can't [F]face a [G]bale of hay
[C]Make for [F]Foley's [C]work the [G]top[F]shelf talk [G]puck, pints and[C] the GAA

The good ship Granma lies at anchor in the harbour
Waiting for the evening tide to rise and bring high water.
Bound for Cuba she must go across the Gulf of
Mexico and The Caribbean Ocean
She's carrying a human cargo 83 good companeros
Each one burning with determination to be free

Chorus

It's hard when folks can't get their work where they've been bred and born
When I was young I used to think I'd bide 'mid the roots and the corn
But I've been forced to flee the town so here's my litany
From Hull and Halifax and Hell good Lord deliver me

When I was courting Mary Anne the auld squire he said one day
I've got no room for wedded folk choose to wed or stay
I could not leave the girl I loved so town we had to flee

I dreamt a dream the other night I couldn't sleep a wink
The rats were tryin' to count the sheep and I was off the drink
There were footsteps in the parlour and voices on the stairs
I was climbin' up the walls and movin' round the chairs.
I looked out from under the blanket up at the fireplace.
The Pope and John F. Kennedy were starin' in me face.*
Suddenly it dawned at me I was getting the old D.T.s
When the Child o' Prague began to dance around the mantlepiece.

Oh the Easter snow
It has faded away
It was so rare and so beautiful
Now it's melted back into the clay

Those days will be remembered
Beyond out in the Naul
Listening to the master's notes

The first time ever I saw your face,
I thought the sun rose in your eyes,
And the moon and the stars were the gifts you gave,
To the dark and the endless skies.

The first time ever I kissed your lips,
I felt the earth move in my hand,
Like the trembling heart of a captive bird,

Am
Born in the middle of the afternoon
D G Am
In a horsedrawn carriage on the old A5
Am
The big twelve wheeler shook my bed,
D Am D Em

Patrick Galvin ( Poet of Cork)

Where oh where is our James Connolly ?
Where oh where is that gallant man ?
He is gone to organise the union
That working men they may yet be free.

I
I tell you a story that happened to me
One day as I went down to Youghal by the sea.
The sun it was bright and the day it was warm.
Says I, "A quiet pint wouldn't do me no harm."
I went in and I called for a bottle of stout.
Says the barman, "I'm sorry, the beer is sold out.
Try whiskey or Paddy, ten years in the wood."

In the town of Athy, one Jeremy Lanigan battered away till he hadn’t a shilling.
His father died, made him a man again, left him a farm and ten acres of ground.
Myself, to be sure, got invitations for the boys and girls I might ask.
Having been asked, friends and relations danced like bees around a sweet cask.
There was lashings of drink wine for the ladies, potatoes and cake bacon and tea.
Nolans and Dolans and all the O’Gradys, courting the girls and dancing away.
While songs went round as plenty as water,
The harps that are sounded through Tara’s old hall,

He was Lawless by name, Lawless by nature,
He was trouble right from the start.
Hard as nails, runnin' wild through the streets
He was breakin' his poor mother's heart.
Nature played a trick on Lawless
and the humour of nature is cruel.
He grew up as we all had expected -
into a dangerous fool.

Oh, Lisdoonvarna
Lisdoon, Lisdoon, Lisdoon, Lisdoonvarna!

Oh, Lisdoonvarna
Lisdoon, Lisdoon, Lisdoon, Lisdoonvarna!

How's it goin' there everybody,
From Cork, New York, Dundalk, Gortahork and Glenamaddy.

There’s thirty people on the bridge and they’re standing in the rain
They caught my eye as I passed them by, they tried to explain
Why they were standing there, I did not want to hear
When trouble gets too close to home, my anger turns to fear

With my eyes turned to the ground I moved along
I covered up my ears and I held my tongue
The rain poured down relentlessly upon the picket line

I've won a heroes name with McAlpine and Costain
With Fitzpatrick, Murphy, Ashe and Wimpey's gang
I've been often on the road on my way to draw the dole
When there's nothing left to do for Sir John Laing
I used to think that God made the mixer pick and hod
So that Paddy might know hell above the ground
I've had gangers big and tough tell me tear it all out
rough

True you ride the finest hourse I've ever seen
Standing sixteen, one or two, with eyes wild and green
You ride the horse so well, hands light to the touch
I could never go with you no matter how I wanted to

Ride on, see you, I could never go with you
No matter how I wanted to

16 fishermen raving out on the town on E
16 peacocks leave their nest and go flying into mystery
they try to cut the spainish look but they look so
untidy
dont eat too much you’ll never get enough when you’re
flying into mystery
flyin into mystery when you should be out seafarin
run out the jib rig the boom step back reality

This is the day the fisherman likes
And so do I
When the rain puts a shine on the chestnut spikes
Hear the curlews cry
The nightingale sings her best
We'll drink a pint in hamiltons rest
And the girl i love wore a muslin dress
The fisherman dream of the sun in the west

Last night as I lay dreaming of pleasant days gone by
My mind been bent on rambling to Irelands I did fly
I stepped on board a vision and followed with a will
And I shortly came to anchor at the cross in Spancil Hill

Delighted by the novelty, enchanted by the scene.
Where in me early boyhood so often I had been.
I thought I heard a murmur and think I hear it still.

When I was young and I was in my day
I could steal what woman’s heart there was away
I’d sing and dance till morning blaze away until the dawning
Long before I was the man you see today

I was born beneath the star that promised all
I could have lived my life between Cork Cobh and Youghal
But the Wheel of Fortune took me from the highest point it shook me

Gerry Murray

Em A D
The least we can do, is make the world a better place
D Em A D
Not just for the few, but for the human race
D Em A D
To end wars and quarrels, make John Lennon’s dream come true

I am a sailor, you're my first mate
We signed on together, we coupled our fate
Hauled up our anchor, determined not to fail
For the hearts treasure, together we set sail

With no maps to guide us we steered our own course
Rode out the storms when the winds were gale force
Sat out the doldrums in patience and hope

country artist making tiles
Whilst on a grave slab sleeps a son
Wet clay dug from the earth, wet stones covering the ground

Earth that buried another woman died, dead and gone
Left a torn lonely boy trying to reconfirm
Trying to reconnect

Victor Jara of Chile
Lived like a shooting star
He fought for the people of Chile
With his songs and his guitar
His hands were gentle, his hands were strong
Victor Jara was a peasant
He worked from a few years old
He sat upon his father's plow

Viva La Quince Brigada
(Christy Moore)

Ten years before I saw lhe light of morning
A comradeship of heroes was laid.
From every corner of the world came sailing
The Fifteenth Inlernational Brigade.