Une belle chanson de Tones Wolfe que les Irlandais vont pouvoir bientôt apprendre aux Irakiens.
Go on home British soldiers go on home
have you got no fuck'in homes of your own
for eight hundred years we've fought you without fear
and we will fight you for eight hundred more.
If you stay British soldiers if you stay
you'll never ever beat the IRA
the fourteen men in Derry are the last that you will bury
so take a tip and leave us while you may.
Go on home British soldiers go on home
have you got no fuck'in homes of your own
for eight hundred years we've fought you without fear
and we will fight you for eight hundred more.
No! we're not British we're not Saxon we're not English
we're Irish! and proud we are to be
so fuck your union jack we want our country back
we want to see old Ireland free once more.
Go on home British soldiers go on home
have you got no fuck'in homes of your own
for eight hundred years we've fought you without fear
and we will fight you for eight hundred more.
Go on home British soldiers go on home
have you got no fuck'in homes of your own
for eight hundred years we've fought you without fear
and we will fight you for eight hundred more.
Well we're fighting British soldiers for the cause
we'll never bow to soldiers because
throughout our history we were born to be free
so get out British soldiers leave us be.
Go on home British soldiers go on home
have you got no fuck'in homes of your own
for eight hundred years we've fought you without fear
and we will fight you for eight hundred more.
Go on home British soldiers go on home
have you got no fuck'in homes of your own
for eight hundred years we've fought you without fear
and we will fight you for eight hundred more.
Eight Hundred Years ? Va falloir que les Irakiens mettent les bouchées doubles car je les sentirais plutôt sur le départ, les Tommies !
RépondreSupprimerPour moi, the one and only song about Irish freedom est une très vieille ballade called "By the rising of the sun". En voici les paroles :
Risin’ of the Moon
“Oh then tell me Sean O’Farrell tell me why you hurry so”
“hush me bhuachaill hush and listen” and his cheeks were all a glow
I bear orders from our Captain get ye ready quick and soon
for the pikes must be together by the Risin’ of the Moon
CHORUS
By the Risin’ of the Moon, By the Risin’ of the Moon
for the pikes must be together by the Risin’ of the Moon
“Oh then tell me Sean O’Farrell where the gatherin’ is to be”
“In the old spot by the river right well known to you and me
one word more for Signal Token whistle up the marchin tune
with your pike upon your shoulder by the Risin of the Moon
By the Risin’ of the Moon, By the Risin’ of the Moon
with your pike upon your shoulder by the Risin of the Moon
Out of many a mud walled cabin eyes were watchin through the night
many a manly heart was throbbin’ o’re the blessed morning light
murmers passed along the valleys like the banshee’s lonely croon
and a thousand pikes were flashin by the Risin of the Moon
By the Risin’ of the Moon, By the Risin’ of the Moon
and a thousand pikes were flashin by the Risin of the Moon
Down there by that singin river where the gatherin’ was to be
high above their shinin’ weapons hung their own beloved green
death to every foe and traitor forward strike the marchin’ tune
and hurrah my boy for freedom ‘tis the Risin’ of the Moon
‘Tis the Risin’ oif the Moon “Tis the Risin of the Moon
and hurrah my boy for freedom ‘tis the Risin’ of the Moon
Merci pour ce clip !
Grand-mère Kalle tu viens de prendre l'ascenseur express dans mon estime !
RépondreSupprimerJ'en ai encore les larmes aux yeux.
Pour ma part, cette chanson je l'ai chantée à Dublin en janvier 2006 à Dublin près de la grande poste avant le concert de Bauhaus dans un petit pub polonais et à chaque refrain, il y avait dix personnes pour se joindre au choeur. Souvenirs inoubliables qui font une vie.
Et puis non en fait t'es qu'un sale con pour venir la ramener sur les 800 years. Tout ça pour étaler ta petite science.
RépondreSupprimerHéhéhéhéhé.
RépondreSupprimerMoi j'écoutais ça sur une vieille cassette dans la bagnole de mon père et tout le monde reprenait en choeur, vitres ouvertes ! La gueule des blaireaux dehors !
PS : Toi aussi t'es qu'une merde.
Tiens cadeau :
RépondreSupprimerhttp://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KYIdrV3cdlk
ps: moi aussi je t'aime.
Marrante version. Connaissais pas.
RépondreSupprimer