- 歌詞
- アルバムリスト
Manning
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William Barras (1803-1835)
作詞:J. Burke, J. Van Heusen
Down from the sunlight, boys, swinging in a cage Life underground mirrors the black face mole Bathed in shadow light
Beat the drum, boys, dust and misery For a farthing at Wallsend colliery
Out in the morning, we'll be far, far away From lamps in the burrows To clear blue overhead with our families
So, beat the drum boys, black coal takers One more round and we'll make it home again Over the hills, over the hills
Down in the tunnels where devils may lie There's no one to turn to, my Marra and I Counting our pieces like hand crafted gold Hearing our hearts like the hammers of old Strike, strike, strike upon the seam Strike, strike and try not hit a beam
Crouched like some victims and forcing our way Up through the mixture of iron and clay under toe
Then in a second, a moment of cold An instant of silence has taken control of my soul Of my soul under the hills
So, beat the drum boys, black coal takers There's no more time for memory makers here
There's nothing moving and I can't feel my legs I hear someone breathing and there's a Davy by my head Is anyone else alive down here? Help is on its way, never fear boys
Minutes passing slowly in the damp and the black There's no more moving from the wall at the back Will they get to the shaft base in time? もっと沢山の歌詞は ※ Mojim.com Ponies and dead bodies in the gloom and grime
Imagine myself in the noon day sun Or standing in the summers rain Will I ever be home again? I'm locked beneath a frame
I'll run wild through the trees and the hay And wash in the northern seas If God is on our side this time He'll never let Auld Nick take me away
There's no one coming to set us free We're all alone now, just Jack and me
Imagine myself in the noon day sun Or standing in the summer's rain Will I ever be home again? I'm locked beneath a frame
I'll run wild through the trees and the hay And wash in the northern seas If God is on our side this time He'll never let Auld Nick take me away
Down in the tunnels where devils may lie There's only the ghosts of my Marra and I Guarding the pieces like hand crafted gold Echoes of axes like hammers of old Strike, strike, strike upon the seam Strike, strike and try not hit a beam
The pit mouth was sealed And the town moved away Leaving the mixture of iron and clay far below Below under the hills
So, beat the drum boys, black coal takers There's no more time for memory makers here
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