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par **Zobi1** » 16 Aoû 2006, 19:09

Ca faisait tellement longtemps

Artiste: Banda Bassotti
Chanson: Go On Home British Soldiers

Go on home British soldiers, go on home.
Have you got no fuckin' 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 will 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.

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.

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 bastards, leave us be

par **EL MAGNIFICO** » 16 Aoû 2006, 19:11

j'aime bien ce texte de musique

par **negrOM** » 16 Aoû 2006, 19:11

par **Zobi1** » 16 Aoû 2006, 19:35

EL MAGNIFICO,

par **EL MAGNIFICO** » 16 Aoû 2006, 19:47

faudrait que tu nous le chante

par **Zobi1** » 16 Aoû 2006, 19:48

EL MAGNIFICO, pas de problème

par **EL MAGNIFICO** » 16 Aoû 2006, 19:48

par **calicot** » 16 Aoû 2006, 19:49

Artiste: Banda Bassotti

mais bon ces pas leurs meilleurs chanson...

par **EL MAGNIFICO** » 16 Aoû 2006, 19:58

I.R.E.L.A.N.D.

Come all ye lads and lassies and sit you down with me,
And I will tell the truth about a land that`s dear to me,
You`ve read it in the papers and you`ve seen it on TV,
But I will spell it out for you, what Ireland means to me.

(Chorus)
I is for internment of the innocent and free
R is for resistance to the laws of tryany
E is for the English who have torn our land apart
L is for the love of freedom in every Irish heart
A is for the answer we`re all searching for
N is for one nation and an end to this long war
D is for the dream of millions longing to be free.
That`s how I spell Ireland, that`s what Ireland means to me.

This land was once respected for it`s saints and scolars too
But now the bomb and bullet that`s all that makes the news
I know that it`s confusing and it`s hard to understand,
But I will spell it out for you by spelling Ireland

(Repeat chorus)

Fields of Athenry

By the lonely prison wall.
I heard a young girl calling.
Michael, they are taking you away, for you
stole Trevelyn's corn
So the young might see the morn.
Now a prisonship lies waiting in the bay.

(Chorus)
Low lie, the Fields of Athenry, where
once we watched the small free birds fly.
Our love was on the wing, we had dreams and songs to sing.
It's so lonely 'round the fields of Athenry.

By a lonely prison wall
I heard a young man calling.
Nothing matters Mary when you're free,
Against the Famine and the Crown
I rebelled, they ran me down.
Now you must raise our child with dignity.

(Chorus repeat)

By a lonely harbour wall
She watched the last star falling.
And that prison ship sailed out against the sky.
Sure she'll wait and hope and pray,
for her love in Botany Bay.
It's so lonely round the fields of Athenry

tant que tu es occupe a chante reprends cest 2 la

par **EL MAGNIFICO** » 16 Aoû 2006, 20:02

Let the People sing

For those who are in love
There's a song that's warm and tender.
For those who are oppressed
In song you can protest.
So liberate your minds
And give your soul expression.
Open up your hearts,
I'll sing for you this song.

Let the people sing their stories and their songs
And the music of their native land
Their lullabies and battlecries and songs of hope and joy
So join us hand in hand
All across this ancient land
Throughout the test of time
It was music that kept their spirits free
Those songs of yours and of mine

It was back in ancient times,
The bard would tell his stories
Of the heroes, of the villain,
Of the chieftains in the glen.
Through Elizabethian time
And Cromwellian war and fury
Put our pipers to the sword,
Killed our harpers and our bards.

Let the people sing their stories and their songs
And the music of their native land
Their lullabies and battlecries and songs of hope and joy
So join us hand in hand
All across this ancient land
Throughout the test of time
It was music that kept their spirits free
Those songs of yours and of mine

Ireland, land of song,
Your music lives forever
In its valleys, in its mountains,
In its hills and in its glens.
Our music did survive
Through famine and oppression.
To the generations gone,
I'll sing for you this song.

Over and over

O-ver and O-ver, we will follow you,
O-ver and O-ver, we will see you through,
We are Celtic supporters, faithful through and through,
and over and over, we will follow you.

If you go to Germany, you will see us there,
France or Spain its all the same,
We'll go any where,
We'll be there to cheer you,
as you travel round,
you can take us anywhere, we won't let you down.

Chorus

If you go to Lisbon, we'll go once again,
In Zaire you'll find us there calling out your name,
when you need supporting, you will always know,
we'll be right there with you, every where you go.

Sean South

spoken: Sad are the homes 'round Garryowen
Since lost their giant pride.
And the banshee cry links every vale
Around the Shannon side
That city of the ancient walls
The broken Treaty Stone,
undying fame surrounds your name -
Sean South of Garryowen.

song starts: 'Twas on a dreary New Year's Eve
As the shades of night came down
A lorry load of volunteers approached a border town
There were men from Dublin and from Cork
Fermanagh and Tyrone (And Tyrone!!)
But the leader was a Limerick man
Sean South from Garryowen.

And as they moved along the street
Up to the barracks door
They scorned the danger they would meet
Their fate that lay in store
They were fighting for old Ireland's cause
To claim their very own
And the foremost of that gallant band
Was Sean South from Garryowen.

But the sergeant spoiled their daring plan
He spied them through the door
The Sten guns and the rifles peeled
A hail of death did pour
And when that awful night was passed
Two men lay cold as stone
There was one from near the border
And one from Garryowen

No more he will hear the seagull's cry
O'er the murmuring Shannon tide
For he fell beneath a northern sky
Brave O'Hanlon by his side
They have gone to join that gallant band
Of Plunkett, Pearse, and Tone (Wolf Tone !)
Another martyr for old Ireland
Sean South from Garryowen

Boys of the old brigade

Oh, father why are you so sad
On this bright Easter morn’
When Irish men are proud and glad
Of the land that they were born?
Oh, son, I see in mem’ries few
Of far off distant days
When being just a lad like you
I joined the IRA.

Where are the lads that stood with me
When history was made?
A Ghra Mo Chroi, I long to see
The boys of the old brigade.

From hills and farms a call to arms
Was heard by one and all.
And from the glen came brave young men
To answer Ireland’s call.
‘T wasn’t long ago we faced a foe,
The old brigade and me,
And by my side they fought and died
That Ireland might be free.

Where are the lads that stood with me
When history was made?
A Ghra Mo Chroi, I long to see
The boys of the old brigade.

And now, my boy, I’ve told you why
On Easter morn’ I sigh,
For I recall my comrades all
And dark old days gone by.
I think of men who fought in glen
With rifle and grenade.
May heaven keep the men who sleep
From the ranks of the old brigade.

Where are the lads that stood with me
When history was made?
A Ghra Mo Chroi, I long to see
The boys of the old brigade.