歌曲 | Mother Mo Chroi |
歌手 | Shane MacGowan |
专辑 | Crock of Gold |
下载 | Image LRC TXT |
作曲 : MacGowan | |
It was 1962 and I was two years out of school | |
When I got on board a boat | |
That was bound for Liverpool | |
The day we sailed away | |
I remember it so well | |
Took a look at the North Wall | |
And bid a fond farewell | |
It's a hard thing to leave | |
The land of your childhood | |
Touched by the rivers | |
And kissed by the sea | |
The places you played | |
With your childhood companions | |
To leave dear old Ireland | |
And Mother Mo Chroi | |
Though I'm going far away | |
And I may never return here | |
There is one thing | |
I always will keep within me | |
Deep in my heart a furious devotion | |
The love of old Ireland | |
And Mother Mo Chroi | |
Though I'm going far away | |
And I may never return here | |
There is always one thing | |
I'll keep within me | |
Deep in my heart a furious devotion | |
The love of old Ireland | |
And Mother Mo Chroi | |
At the top of Pentonville Road | |
I saw the sun setting | |
The town laid out before me | |
Looked beautiful to me | |
Away from all the sighing | |
The suffering and the dying | |
I dreamed of the future | |
The young and the free | |
But the years they go by quickly | |
Now I know I can't remain here | |
Where each day brings me closer | |
To that final misery | |
My kids will never scrape shit round here | |
And I won't die crying in a pint of beer | |
I'm going back to Ireland | |
And Mother Mo Chroi |
zuo qu : MacGowan | |
It was 1962 and I was two years out of school | |
When I got on board a boat | |
That was bound for Liverpool | |
The day we sailed away | |
I remember it so well | |
Took a look at the North Wall | |
And bid a fond farewell | |
It' s a hard thing to leave | |
The land of your childhood | |
Touched by the rivers | |
And kissed by the sea | |
The places you played | |
With your childhood companions | |
To leave dear old Ireland | |
And Mother Mo Chroi | |
Though I' m going far away | |
And I may never return here | |
There is one thing | |
I always will keep within me | |
Deep in my heart a furious devotion | |
The love of old Ireland | |
And Mother Mo Chroi | |
Though I' m going far away | |
And I may never return here | |
There is always one thing | |
I' ll keep within me | |
Deep in my heart a furious devotion | |
The love of old Ireland | |
And Mother Mo Chroi | |
At the top of Pentonville Road | |
I saw the sun setting | |
The town laid out before me | |
Looked beautiful to me | |
Away from all the sighing | |
The suffering and the dying | |
I dreamed of the future | |
The young and the free | |
But the years they go by quickly | |
Now I know I can' t remain here | |
Where each day brings me closer | |
To that final misery | |
My kids will never scrape shit round here | |
And I won' t die crying in a pint of beer | |
I' m going back to Ireland | |
And Mother Mo Chroi |
zuò qǔ : MacGowan | |
It was 1962 and I was two years out of school | |
When I got on board a boat | |
That was bound for Liverpool | |
The day we sailed away | |
I remember it so well | |
Took a look at the North Wall | |
And bid a fond farewell | |
It' s a hard thing to leave | |
The land of your childhood | |
Touched by the rivers | |
And kissed by the sea | |
The places you played | |
With your childhood companions | |
To leave dear old Ireland | |
And Mother Mo Chroi | |
Though I' m going far away | |
And I may never return here | |
There is one thing | |
I always will keep within me | |
Deep in my heart a furious devotion | |
The love of old Ireland | |
And Mother Mo Chroi | |
Though I' m going far away | |
And I may never return here | |
There is always one thing | |
I' ll keep within me | |
Deep in my heart a furious devotion | |
The love of old Ireland | |
And Mother Mo Chroi | |
At the top of Pentonville Road | |
I saw the sun setting | |
The town laid out before me | |
Looked beautiful to me | |
Away from all the sighing | |
The suffering and the dying | |
I dreamed of the future | |
The young and the free | |
But the years they go by quickly | |
Now I know I can' t remain here | |
Where each day brings me closer | |
To that final misery | |
My kids will never scrape shit round here | |
And I won' t die crying in a pint of beer | |
I' m going back to Ireland | |
And Mother Mo Chroi |