Τραγουδια-αφηγησεις

ΑΝΔΡΕΑΣ Κ.

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Σας αρεσουν τα τραγουδια-αφηγησεις?
Τα τραγουδια εκεινα δηλαδη που "λενε" μια ιστορια μεσα απο τους στιχους τους.
Κατι σαν τα τραγουδια που αφηγουντο οι παλαιοι τροβαδουροι , ας πουμε.

Εαν ναι ας προτεινει ο καθενας μας καποιο

Ξεκινω εγω με το "Roads to Moscow" του Al Stewart
Mia εικονα του ρωσικου μετωπου μεσα απο τα ματια ενος νεαρου ρωσου στρατιωτη που στην αρχη υποχωρει και καθως η ροη του πολεμου αλλαζει , επιτιθεται προς τα γερμανικα εδαφη με καταληξη καποιο στρατοπεδο συγκεντρωσης.Αξιζει να διαβασετε τους στιχους ακομα και εαν δεν το εχετε ακουσει ποτε.

They crossed over the border the hour before dawn
Moving in lines through the day
Most of our planes were destroyed on the ground where they lay
Waiting for orders we held in the wood - word from the front never came
By evening the sound of the gunfire was miles away
Ah, softly we move through the shadows, slip away through the trees
Crossing their lines in the mists in the fields on our hands and our knees
And all that I ever was able to see
The fire in the air glowing red silhouetting the smoke on the breeze
All summer they drove us back through the Ukraine
Smolyensk and Viyasma soon fell
By autumn we stood with our backs to the town of Orel
Closer and closer to Moscow they come - riding the wind like a bell
General Guderian stands at the crest of the hill
Winter brought with her the rains, oceans of mud filled the roads
Gluing the tracks of their tanks to the ground while the sky filled with snow
And all that I ever was able to see
The fire in the air glowing red silhouetting the snow on the breeze
In the footsteps of Napoleon the shadow figures stagger through the winter
Falling back before the gates of Moscow,
Standing in the wings like an avenger
And far away behind their lines the partisans are stirring in the forest
Coming unexpectedly upon their outposts, growing like a promise
You'll never know, you'll never know
Which way to turn, which way to look, you'll never see us
As we're stealing through the blackness of the night
You'll never know, you'll never hear us
And the evening sings in a voice of amber, the dawn is surely coming
The morning road leads to Stalingrad, and the sky is softly humming
Two broken Tigers on fire in the night flicker their souls to the wind
We wait in the lines for the final approach to begin
It's been almost four years that I've carried a gun
At home it'll almost be spring
The flames of the Tigers are lighting the road to Berlin
Ah, quickly we move through the ruins that bow to the ground
The old men and children they send out to face us, they can't slow us down
And all that I ever was able to see
The eyes of the city are opening now it's the end of the dream
I'm coming home, I'm coming home
Now you can taste it in the wind, the war is over
And I listen to the clicking of the train wheels as we roll across the border
And now they ask me of the time
That I was caught behind their lines and taken prisoner
"They only held me for a day, a lucky break", I say;
They turn and listen closer
I'll never know, I'll never know
Why I was taken from the line and all the others
To board a special train and journey deep into the heart of holy Russia
And it's cold and damp in the transit camp, and the air is still and sullen
And the pale sun of October whispers the snow will soon be coming
And I wonder when I'll be home again and the morning answers
"Never"
And the evening sighs and the steely Russian skies go on forever
 

exile

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Αυτη τη στιγμη δεν προλαβαινω Ανδρεα,βαλε εσυ κανα απο Βαν Μορισον και Ιρλανδια(Τριφυλλι),γιατι εχω κατι αποστολες να ετοιμασω και εχω και την Σοφια που εξακολουθει απο χτες να ψαχνει το ντοσιε... :wink:
 

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Φύγαμε λοιπόν!!!
The Ballad Of John Barleycorn

There was three men come out of the West
Their fortunes for to try
And these three men made a solemn vow
John Barleycorn must die.
They ploughed, they sowed, they harrowed him in
Throwing clods all on his head
And these three men made a solemn vow
John barleycorn was Dead.

They've left him in the ground for a very long time
Till the rains from heaven did fall
Then little Sir John's sprung up his head
And so amazed them all
They've left him in the ground till the Midsummer
Till he's grown both pale and wan
Then little Sir John's grown a long, long beard
And so become a man.

They hire'd men with their scythes so sharp
To cut him off at the knee.
They've bound him and tied him around the waist
Serving him most barb'rously.
They hire'd men with their sharp pitch-forks
To prick him to the heart
But the drover he served him worse than that
For he's bound him to the cart.

They've rolled him around and around the field
Till they came unto a barn
And there they made a solemn mow
Of Little Sir John Barleycorn
They've hire'd men with their crab-tree sticks
To strip him skin from bone
But the miller, he served him worse than that,
For he's ground him between two stones.

Here's Little sir John in the nut-brown bowl
And brandy in the glass
But Little Sir John in the nut-brown bowl's
Proved the stronger man at last
For the hunts man he can't hunt the fox
Nor so loudly blow his horn
And the tinker, he can't mend Kettles or pots
Without a little of Sir John Barleycorn.
Η ιστορία του John Barleycorn ξεκινά μέσα στα 1500 στην Αγγλία, για την κατασκευή ουίσκι και μπύρας.
Χρόνια αργότερα ο Jack London έδωσε τον τίτλο στην αυτοβιογραφία του καθορίζοντας τον John Barleycorn..must die σαν τον αγώνα ενάντια στον αλκοολισμό.
Και αργότερα πολύ ήρθαν οι Traffic....από τον υπέροχο δίσκο τους!
(Στην Ελλάδα ο Πασχάλης ..χεχε.. "Περήφανοι όλοι με γενναία καρδιά... τρα λα λα")χικ!
 

Σπύρος Μπλάτσιος

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Σχεδόν όλα τα τραγούδια του Bob Dylan είναι αφηγηματικά, αλλά αυτό που είναι αριστούργημα είναι το Hurricane

Pistol shots ring out in the barroom night
Enter Patty Valentine from the upper hall.
She sees the bartender in a pool of blood,
Cries out, "My God, they killed them all!"
Here comes the story of the Hurricane,
The man the authorities came to blame
For somethin' that he never done.
Put in a prison cell, but one time he could-a been
The champion of the world.

Three bodies lyin' there does Patty see
And another man named Bello, movin' around mysteriously.
"I didn't do it," he says, and he throws up his hands
"I was only robbin' the register, I hope you understand.
I saw them leavin'," he says, and he stops
"One of us had better call up the cops."
And so Patty calls the cops
And they arrive on the scene with their red lights flashin'
In the hot New Jersey night.

Meanwhile, far away in another part of town
Rubin Carter and a couple of friends are drivin' around.
Number one contender for the middleweight crown
Had no idea what kinda shit was about to go down
When a cop pulled him over to the side of the road
Just like the time before and the time before that.
In Paterson that's just the way things go.
If you're black you might as well not show up on the street
'Less you wanna draw the heat.

Alfred Bello had a partner and he had a rap for the cops.
Him and Arthur Dexter Bradley were just out prowlin' around
He said, "I saw two men runnin' out, they looked like middleweights
They jumped into a white car with out-of-state plates."
And Miss Patty Valentine just nodded her head.
Cop said, "Wait a minute, boys, this one's not dead"
So they took him to the infirmary
And though this man could hardly see
They told him that he could identify the guilty men.

Four in the mornin' and they haul Rubin in,
Take him to the hospital and they bring him upstairs.
The wounded man looks up through his one dyin' eye
Says, "Wha'd you bring him in here for? He ain't the guy!"
Yes, here's the story of the Hurricane,
The man the authorities came to blame
For somethin' that he never done.
Put in a prison cell, but one time he could-a been
The champion of the world.

Four months later, the ghettos are in flame,
Rubin's in South America, fightin' for his name
While Arthur Dexter Bradley's still in the robbery game
And the cops are puttin' the screws to him, lookin' for somebody to blame.
"Remember that murder that happened in a bar?"
"Remember you said you saw the getaway car?"
"You think you'd like to play ball with the law?"
"Think it might-a been that fighter that you saw runnin' that night?"
"Don't forget that you are white."

Arthur Dexter Bradley said, "I'm really not sure."
Cops said, "A poor boy like you could use a break
We got you for the motel job and we're talkin' to your friend Bello
Now you don't wanta have to go back to jail, be a nice fellow.
You'll be doin' society a favor.
That sonofabitch is brave and gettin' braver.
We want to put his ass in stir
We want to pin this triple murder on him
He ain't no Gentleman Jim."

Rubin could take a man out with just one punch
But he never did like to talk about it all that much.
It's my work, he'd say, and I do it for pay
And when it's over I'd just as soon go on my way
Up to some paradise
Where the trout streams flow and the air is nice
And ride a horse along a trail.
But then they took him to the jailhouse
Where they try to turn a man into a mouse.

All of Rubin's cards were marked in advance
The trial was a pig-circus, he never had a chance.
The judge made Rubin's witnesses drunkards from the slums
To the white folks who watched he was a revolutionary bum
And to the black folks he was just a crazy nigger.
No one doubted that he pulled the trigger.
And though they could not produce the gun,
The D.A. said he was the one who did the deed
And the all-white jury agreed.

Rubin Carter was falsely tried.
The crime was murder "one," guess who testified?
Bello and Bradley and they both baldly lied
And the newspapers, they all went along for the ride.
How can the life of such a man
Be in the palm of some fool's hand?
To see him obviously framed
Couldn't help but make me feel ashamed to live in a land
Where justice is a game.

Now all the criminals in their coats and their ties
Are free to drink martinis and watch the sun rise
While Rubin sits like Buddha in a ten-foot cell
An innocent man in a living hell.
That's the story of the Hurricane,
But it won't be over till they clear his name
And give him back the time he's done.
Put in a prison cell, but one time he could-a been
The champion of the world.
 

exile

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Μονο εγω δεν θυμαμαι τραγουδια η δεν ξερω τοσο καλα Αγγλικα;;; :(
 

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Το πρώτο τραγούδι αφήγηση που μου έρχετε στρο μυαλό είναι το Smoke On The Water των Deep Purple.
Μας λέει την ιστορία μιας πυρκαγιάς σε ένα καζινο στην λίμνη της Γενέυης στην διάρκεια μια συναυλίας του Frank Zappa.
αλλα ας μιλήσουν καλύτερα οι στίχοι......

We all came out to Montreux
On the lake Geneva shoreline
To make records with a mobile
We didn't have much time
Frank zappa and the mothers
Were at the best place around
But some stupid with a flare gun
Burned the place to the ground
Smoke on the water, fire in the sky

They burned down the gambling house
It died with an awful sound
Funky claude was running in and out
Pulling kids out the ground
When it all was over
We had to find another place
But swiss time was running out
It seemed that we would lose the race
Smoke on the water, fire in the sky

We ended up at the grand hotel
It was empty cold and bare
But with the rolling truck stones thing just outside
Making our music there
With a few red lights and a few old beds
We make a place to sweat
No matter what we get out of this
I know we'll never forget
Smoke on the water, fire in the sky
 

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Ας γράψουμε και κανένα ελληνικό:

Ακορντεόν
Στην γειτονιά μου την παλιά είχα ένα φίλο
που ήξερε και έπαιζε τ' ακορντεόν
όταν τραγούδαγε φτυστός ήταν ο ήλιος
φωτιές στα χέρια του άναβε τ' ακορντεόν

Μα ένα βράδυ σκοτεινό σαν όλα τ' άλλα
κράταγε τσίλιες παίζοντας ακορντεόν
φασιστικά καμιόνια στάθηκαν στη μάντρα
και μια ριπή σταμάτησε τ' ακορντεόν

Τ' αρχινισμένο σύνθημα πάντα μου μένει
όποτε ακούω από τότε ακορντεόν
κι έχει σαν στάμπα τη ζωή μου σημαδέψει
δε θα περάσει ο φασισμός


Στίχοι: Γιάννης Νεγρεπόντης
Μουσική: Μάνος Λοΐζος




Στον πόλεμο ο Τζο

Στον πόλεμο ο Τζο
περνάει καλά
τον έχουν ώπα-ώπα
τον νέγρο τον λοχία
τον παλικαρά
και πού 'χει μαύρη πέτσα
καθένας το ξεχνά
κατώτεροι κι ανώτεροι
τον λεν παλικαρά
τον νέγρο τον λοχία
τον Τζο τον φουκαρά.

Στον πόλεμο ο Τζο
περνάει καλά
ώσπου κακιά μια σφαίρα
και το δεξί πιο πέρα
το χέρι του πετά
και πού 'χει μαύρη μάνα
κανένας δε νογά
κατώτεροι κι ανώτεροι
τον λεν παλικαρά
του δίνουν και βραβείο
του Τζο του φουκαρά.

Μονόχειρας ο Τζο
ζητάει δουλειά
μα τί δουλειά να κάνει
που το δεξί έχει χάσει
πέρα στο Βιετνάμ
και πού 'χει μαύρη πέτσα
θυμήθηκαν ξανά
τον νέγρο Τζο τον ήρωα
τον λεν αληταρά
τις πόρτες δεν ανοίγουν
στον Τζο τον φουκαρά.

Στίχοι: Γιάννης Νεγρεπόντης
Μουσική: Μάνος Λοΐζος


Ο Αχιλλέας απ' το Κάιρο
Ο Αχιλλέας απ' το Κάιρο
εδώ και χρόνια ζει στην Αθήνα
σ' ένα υπόγειο σκοτεινό
γωνιακό κάπου στην Σίνα

Μαζί του ζει κάποιος Μηνάς
γι' αυτούς τους δυο και τι δεν λένε
οι πιο σεμνοί της γειτονιάς
ξέρουν επίθετα που καίνε

Είναι κάτι παιδιά που δε γίνονται άντρες
και δε ζουν τη ζωή τη δικιά σου
είναι κάτι παιδιά που δεν γίνονται άντρες
Θα μπορούσαν να είναι παιδιά σου

Ποτέ δε βγαίνουνε μαζί
κανείς δεν ξέρει πώς περνάνε
υπόγεια κάνουνε ζωή
κι όλοι οι αργόσχολοι ρωτάνε

Η κυρά Λέλα η Σμυρνιά
στην αμαρτία λέει βουλιάζουν
και διώχνει τα μικρά παιδιά
όταν στο υπόγειο πλησιάζουν

Είναι κάτι παιδιά που δε γίνονται άντρες
και δε ζουν τη ζωή τη δικιά σου
είναι κάτι παιδιά που δεν γίνονται άντρες
Θα μπορούσαν να είναι παιδιά σου

Τα βράδια απ' έξω σαν περνάς
μια μουσική ακούς και γέλια
και στο υπόγειο αν κοιτάς
βλέπεις μια ολάνθιστη καμέλια

Ο Αχιλλέας απ' το Κάιρο
ας είναι χρόνια στην Αθήνα
η μάνα του δεν τον ξεχνά
κι ας είναι απ' τα παιδιά εκείνα...

...που είναι κάτι παιδιά που δε γίνονται άντρες
και δε ζουν τη ζωή τη δικιά σου
είναι κάτι παιδιά που δεν γίνονται άντρες
Θα μπορούσαν να είναι παιδιά σου

Στίχοι: Κώστας Τουρνάς
Μουσική: Κώστας Τουρνάς


Φιλικά
Γιάννης
 


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Γέρνει ο ήλιος
Στίχοι: Κώστας Χατζής
Μουσική: Κώστας Χατζής



Γέρνει ο ήλιος και μαζί του όλη η μέρα
έτσι να έγερνα μαζί τους και γω
και να χαθώ και να σβηστώ όπως η μέρα
και να ανθίζω με το πρώτο πρωινό

Γιατί οι άνθρωποι τόσο μικροί
γιατί η αγάπη να΄χει τέλος στη ζωή
γιατί οι άνθρωποι τόσο πικροί
και γω και συ τόσο μικροί

Την κάθε νύχτα δε μπορώ δεν την αντέχω
όταν με φτάνει μου ματώνει την ψυχή
κι οι αναμνήσεις μου καρφώνουν το μυαλό μου
και με κρατάνε ώσπου να΄ρθει το πρωί

Γιατί οι άνθρωποι τόσο μικροί
γιατί η αγάπη να΄χει τέλος στη ζωή
γιατί οι άνθρωποι τόσο πικροί
και γω και συ, και γω και συ
τόσο μικροί

Γέρνει ο ήλιος και μαζί του όλο το φως
κι όλα τα χρώματα να γίνουν όλα ένα
να΄ταν και να΄μπαινα στο πέπλο τους αυτό
και το πρωί να πω στο κόσμο καλημέρα

Γιατί οι άνθρωποι τόσο μικροί
γιατί η αγάπη να΄χει τέλος στη ζωή
γιατί οι άνθρωποι τόσο πικροί
και γω και συ και γω και συ
τόσο μικροί


Ένα κοχύλι απ’ το Αιγαίο

Στίχοι: Κώστας Χατζής
Μουσική: Κώστας Χατζής



’ννα δώσ' μου για να σε θυμάμαι
Το μικρό χτενάκι που κρατάς
Μπήκε ο Σεπτέμβρης και φοβάμαι
Τ' όνειρο πως τέλειωσε για μας

Πάρε ένα κοχύλι απ' το Αιγαίο
Να 'χεις στο ταξίδι συντροφιά
Κι από το φιλί το τελευταίο
Κράτησε στα χείλη τη δροσιά

Η καρδιά μου φύλλο, φύλλο
Ματωμένη, τριανταφυλλιά
Στο Αιγαίο και στον ήλιο
Θεέ μου πόση νοιώθω μοναξιά

’σε την αλμυρά από τ' αλάτι
κάτω από τα μάτια της σιωπής
Πάρε της φυγής το μονοπάτι
τέτοιον ώρα τίποτα μη πεις

Μόνο σαν χαράξει να μου τάξεις
όταν το μαντήλι θα χαθεί
Βγες στην κουπαστή να το φωνάξεις
σ' όλο το Αιγαίο ν' ακουστεί


Ο Στρατής
Στίχοι: Κώστας Χατζής
Μουσική: Κώστας Χατζής

Tα νιάτα του έφαγε ο Στρατής στα ναυπηγεία ολημερίς
Φτιάχνει τα πιο γερά σκαριά, να παν οι άλλοι μακριά
Να ταξιδέψουνε τη γη, οι τυχεροί, οι τυχεροί
T’ απόβραδο στο καπηλειό με τον Γιωργή τον παραγιό
λένε για χώρες μακρινές, που δεν τις είδανε ποτές
Ζηλεύουνε τους ναυτικούς, τους τυχερούς, τους τυχερούς
Όταν πεθάνω, βρε Γιωργή, όταν σαλπάρω από τη γη
βάλε στη κάσα μου πανιά, βάλε της άλμπουρα, σκοινιά
Πες πως ταξίδεψε κι αυτός, ο τυχερός, ο τυχερός



Το αεροπλάνο
Στίχοι: Κώστας Χατζής
Μουσική: Κώστας Χατζής

Πολύ με πίκρανες ζωή
Μακριά θα φύγω ένα πρωί
Θα ανέβω σ’ ένα αεροπλάνο
Να δω τον κόσμο από κει πάνω
Όταν κοιτάς από ψηλά, μοιάζει η γη με ζωγραφιά
και συ την πήρες σοβαρά, και συ την πήρες σοβαρά
Μοιάζουν τα σπίτια με σπιρτόκουτα
Μοιάζουν μυρμήγκια οι ανθρώποι
Το μεγαλύτερο ανάκτορο
μοιάζει μ’ ένα μικρούλι τόπι
Κι όλοι αυτοί που σε πικράνανε
από ψηλά αν τους κοιτάξεις
θα σου φανούν τόσο ασήμαντοι
που στη στιγμή θα τούς ξεχάσεις
Αγαπημένη μου, μην κλαις, πάμε μαζί ψηλά, αν θες
Να δεις τη γη απ’ τη σελήνη, ένα φεγγάρι είναι και κείνη
Όταν κοιτάς από ψηλά...
Μοιάζουν οι πύργοι με κουκλόσπιτα
και τα κανόνια με παιχνίδια
Από ψηλά δεν ξεχωρίζουνε
οι ομορφιές και τα στολίδια
Κι ό,τι σε πλήγωσε ή σε θάμπωσε, από ψηλά αν το κοιτάξεις
θα σου φανεί τόσο ασήμαντο, που στη στιγμή θα το ξεχάσεις
Αγαπημένη μου μην κλαις...

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Γιάννης
 


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Ένα τραγούδι που ΛΑΤΡΕΥΩ, που με ταξιδεύει πάντα...

THE BOSS - Downbound train

I had a job, I had a girl
I had something going mister in this world
I got laid off down at the lumber yard
Our love went bad, times got hard
Now I work down at the carwash
Where all it ever does is rain
Don't you feel like you're a rider on a downbound train

She just said "Joe I gotta go
We had it once we ain't got it any more"
She packed her bags left me behind
She bought a ticket on the Central Line
Nights as I sleep, I hear that whistle whining
I feel her kiss in the misty rain
And I feel like I'm a rider on a downbound train

Last night I heard your voice
You were crying, crying, you were so alone
You said your love had never died
You were waiting for me at home
Put on my jacket, I ran through the woods
I ran till I thought my chest would explode
There in the clearing, beyond the highway
In the moonlight, our wedding house shone
I rushed through the yard, I burst through the front door
My head pounding hard, up the stairs I climbed
The room was dark, our bed was empty
Then I heard that long whistle whine
And I dropped to my knees, hung my head and cried

Now I swing a sledge hammer on a railroad gang
Knocking down them cross ties, working in the rain
Now don't it feel like you're a rider on a downbound train
 


exile

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Απο Eric burdon το αλλο αν το ξερει κανεις-εγω δεν ξερω Αγγλικα-hotel hell λεγεται...ευχαριστω... :lol:
 

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Re: Τραγουδια-αφ&

Hotel Hell - Eric Burdon and The Animals


The neon sign flashes,
Leaves its mark against the wall
The TV is silent
And will stay that way until dawn
The sheets are so cold,
The telephone is dumb
And I'm so very far from my home

In the dark I hear a siren
It screams across the night
Someone else is in trouble
I am not the only one
The cigarette glows,
I'm all alone
And I'm so very far from my home
I would leave here tomorrow
But I know I've got to stay
If only you were here with me
I'm holding on to every memory, memory
Memory, memory, memory, memory…

It is four o'clock in the morning,
The sun begins to rise
Another day I have to face,
Baby, I'm so dissatisfied
Breakfast is served
The morning news is heard
And I'm so very far from my home
Yes, I'm so very far from my home
Yes, I'm so very far from my home
So very…
Well, I'm so very far, far away from home
So very…
 

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HOTEL HELL (lyrics) - ERIC BURDON AND THE ANIMALS

The neon sign flashes,
Leaves its mark against the wall
The TV is silent
And will stay that way until dawn
The sheets are so cold,
The telephone is dumb
And I'm so very far from my home

In the dark I hear a siren
It screams across the night
Someone else is in trouble
I am not the only one
The cigarette glows,
I'm all alone
And I'm so very far from my home
I would leave here tomorrow
But I know I've got to stay
If only you were here with me
I'm holding on to every memory, memory
Memory, memory, memory, memory…

It is four o'clock in the morning,
The sun begins to rise
Another day I have to face,
Baby, I'm so dissatisfied
Breakfast is served
The morning news is heard
And I'm so very far from my home
Yes, I'm so very far from my home
Yes, I'm so very far from my home
So very…
Well, I'm so very far, far away from home
So very…


Φιλικά
Γιάννης
 



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έχει ακούσει κανείς σας το Diary Of A Working Man των Blackfoot ?

Τρομερό τραγούδι που μας λέει την ιστορία ενός εργάτη που τον παρατάει η γυναίκα του....

In a room all alone waiting by the telephone
With a tear in his eye and a pen in his hand
So begins the diary of a working man

He'd been poor man all his life
And just when things were going right
Some stranger takes his woman away
He doesn't know if he'll see, oh, another day
Oh, another day

Time has come and he was right,
It was a cold and rainy night
And he thought for sure she would follow
But it won't be the same, no tomorrow

Now here's a man glory bound
In a pool of dreams about to drown
If he can just get through this night
Then maybe tomorrow things will work out right
Oh, will work out right

Well, with the pain in his blood
He'd love to take her if he could
And as he wakes with a scream
To only it's just reality

He woke with sweaty hands
Maybe there'll be a change in plans
With a tear in his eye and a gun in his hand
So ends the diary of a workingman
 

exile

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Κατι απο Τζοαν Μπαεζ?Η εστω απο Jefferson?I saw you comin' back to me... :?:
 

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Exile! Η θέληση σου προσταγή!
Ιδού!
Diamonds And Rust

I'll be damned, here comes your ghost again,
but that's not unusual it's just that the moon is full
and you happened to call

And here I sit, hand on the telephone
hearing the voice I'd known
a couple of light years ago
headed straight for a fall

As I remember your eyes were bluer than robin's eggs
My poetry was lousy you said
Where are you calling from
A booth in the Midwest
Ten years ago I bought you some cufflinks
You brought me something
We both know what memories can bring
They bring Diamond and Rust


Now I see you standing with brown leaves all around and snow in your hair
Now we're smiling out the window of the crummy hotel
over washington square
Our breath comes out white clouds, mingles and hangs in the air
Speaking strictly for me
we both could've died then and there

Now you're telling me you're not nostalgic
then give me another word for it
you were so good with words
and at keeping things vague

Cause I need some of that vagueness now, it's all come back
too clearly, yes, I loved you dearly
and if you're offering me diamonds and rust

I've all ready paid

But we both know what memories can bring
they bring Diamonds and Rust
yes we both know what memories can bring
they bring diamonds and rust

Diamonds, Diamonds and Rust
Diamonds, Diamonds and Rust
Diamonds, Diamonds and Rust
Diamonds, Diamonds and Rust
Ενα τραγούδι σταθμός γραμμένο από την Joan για τον Bob Dylan μετά το τέλος της σχέσης τους!!!!
 


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