Shane MacGowan's Popes – Najpopularniejsze utwory
Kredyty
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Shane MacGowan & The Popes
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Shane MacGowan
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
The Pogues
Editing Engineer
Tekst Utworu
This is called The Broad Majestic Shannon
One, two, three, one-two
The last time I saw you was down at the Greeks
There was whiskey on Sunday and tears on our cheeks
You sang me a song, pure as the spring
The breeze going up Glenaveigh
I sat for a while at the cross at Finnoe
Where young lovers would meet when the flowers were in bloom
Heard the men coming home from the fair at Shinrone
Their hearts in Tipperary wherever they go
Take my hands and dry your tears, babe
Take my hands, forget your fears, babe
There's no pain, there's no more sorrow
They're all gone, gone in the years, babe
I sat for a while by the gap in the wall
Found a rusty tin can and an old Hurley ball
Heard the cards being dealt and the rosary called
And a fiddle playing "Sean Dun Na N gall"
And the next time I see you, we'll be down at the Greeks
There'll be whiskey on Sunday and tears on our cheeks
It's useless to laugh, stupid to bawl to bawl
'Bout a rusty tin can and an old Hurley ball
Take my hands and dry your tears, babe
Take my hands, forget your fears, babe
There's no pain, and no more sorrow
They're all gone, gone in the years, babe
So I walked as the day was dawning
Where small birds sang and leaves were falling
Where we once watched the row boats landing
By the broad majestic shannon
Oh yeah
Nice thrust and I'll see you in a minute
Hey, you lazy sons of bitches
Get up off your fucking hairy Irish asses and dance
Writer(s): Shane Patrick Lysaght Macgowan
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