It looks like you're using an Ad Blocker.

Please white-list or disable AboveTopSecret.com in your ad-blocking tool.

Thank you.

 

Some features of ATS will be disabled while you continue to use an ad-blocker.

 

Mood Music - Whats Song Represents How You feel right NOW Part Deux

page: 11
61
<< 8  9  10    12  13  14 >>

log in

join
share:

posted on Mar, 4 2014 @ 07:17 PM
link   






posted on Mar, 4 2014 @ 07:30 PM
link   



posted on Mar, 4 2014 @ 07:42 PM
link   



posted on Mar, 4 2014 @ 07:44 PM
link   
My favourite Cohen track.


When they poured across the border
I was cautioned to surrender,
this I could not do;
I took my gun and vanished.
I have changed my name so often,
I've lost my wife and children
but I have many friends,
and some of them are with me.

An old woman gave us shelter,
kept us hidden in the garret,
then the soldiers came;
she died without a whisper.

There were three of us this morning
I'm the only one this evening
but I must go on;
the frontiers are my prison.

Oh, the wind, the wind is blowing,
through the graves the wind is blowing,
freedom soon will come;
then we'll come from the shadows.

Les Allemands e'taient chez moi, (The Germans were at my home)
ils me dirent, "Signe toi," (They said, "Sign yourself,")
mais je n'ai pas peur; (But I am not afraid)
j'ai repris mon arme. (I have retaken my weapon.)

J'ai change' cent fois de nom, (I have changed names a hundred times)
j'ai perdu femme et enfants (I have lost wife and children)
mais j'ai tant d'amis; (But I have so many friends)
j'ai la France entie`re. (I have all of France)

Un vieil homme dans un grenier (An old man, in an attic)
pour la nuit nous a cache', (Hid us for the night)
les Allemands l'ont pris; (The Germans captured him)
il est mort sans surprise. (He died without surprise.)

Oh, the wind, the wind is blowing,
through the graves the wind is blowing,
freedom soon will come;
then we'll come from the shadows.




posted on Mar, 4 2014 @ 07:48 PM
link   
reply to post by Ramcheck
 


WOW!! she is good!!







posted on Mar, 4 2014 @ 07:52 PM
link   
reply to post by galadofwarthethird
 


Awww, sorry your'e disappointed in this thread. I find it one of the few sane places left on ATS. I probably feel the same way you do about the other forums.



www.youtube.com...



posted on Mar, 4 2014 @ 07:54 PM
link   
I sense a revolution on yonder mountain. Thoughts are with our Ukrainian and Venezuelan brothers and sisters.


Around the time I saw the light of morning
A comradeship of heroes was laid
From every corner of the world came sailing
The Fifty International Brigade.

They came to stand beside the Spanish people
To try and stem the rising fascist tide
Franco's allies were the powerful and wealthy
Frank Ryan's men came from the other side.

Even the olives were bleeding
As the battle for Madrid it thundered on
Truth and love against the force of evil
Brotherhood against the fascist clan.

Chorus:
Viva la Quinta Brigada,
No Pasaran, the pledge that made them fight
Adelante was the cry around the hillside
Let us all remember them tonight.

Bob Hilliard was a Church of Ireland pastor
Form Killarney across the Pyrenees he came
From Derry came a brave young Christian Brother
And side by side they fought and died in Spain.

Tommy Woods age seventeen died in Cordoba
With Na Fianna he learned to hold his gun
From Dublin to the Villa del Rio
He fought and died beneath the Spanish sun.

(Chorus)

Many Irishmen heard the call of Franco
Joined Hitler and Mussolini too
Propaganda from the pulpit and newspapers
Helped O'Duffy to enlist his crew.

The call came from Maynooth, "support the facists"
The men of cloth had failed yet again
When the Bishops blessed the Blueshirts in Dun Laoghaire
As they sailed beneath the swastika to Spain.

(Chorus)

This song is a tribute to Frank Ryan
Kit Conway and Dinny Coady too
Peter Daly, Charlie Regan and Hugh Bonar
Though many died I can but name a few.

Danny Boyle, Blaser-Brown and Charlie Donnelly
Liam Tumilson and Jim Straney from the Falls
Jack Nalty, Tommy Patton and Frank Conroy
Jim Foley, Tony Fox and Dick O'Neill.
(Chorus repeated)




posted on Mar, 4 2014 @ 08:00 PM
link   



posted on Mar, 4 2014 @ 08:09 PM
link   
Victor Jara of Chile
Lived like a shooting star
He fought for the people of Chile
With his songs and his guitar
His hands were gentle, his hands were strong

Victor Jara was a peasant
He worked from a few years old
He sat upon his father's plow
And watched the earth unfold
His hands were gentle, his hands were strong

Now when the neighbors had a wedding
Or one of their children died
His mother sang all night for them
With Victor by her side
His hands were gentle, his hands were strong

He grew up to be a fighter
Against the people's wrongs
He listened to their grief and joy
And turned them into songs
His hands were gentle, his hands were strong

He sang about the copper miners
And those who worked the land
He sang about the factory workers
And they knew he was their man
His hands were gentle, his hands were strong

He campaigned for Allende
Working night and day
He sang "Take hold of your brothers hand
You know the future begins today"
His hands were gentle, his hands were strong

Then the generals seized Chile
They arrested Victor then
They caged him in a stadium
With five-thousand frightened men
His hands were gentle, his hands were strong

Victor stood in the stadium
His voice was brave and strong
And he sang for his fellow prisoners
Till the guards cut short his song
His hands were gentle, his hands were strong

They broke the bones in both his hands
They beat his lovely .
They tore him with electric shocks
And after two long days of torture, they shot him dead
His hands were gentle, his hands were strong

Now the generals they rule Chile
And the British have their thanks
For they rule with Hawker Hunters
And they rule with Chieftain tanks
His hands were gentle, his hands were strong

Repeat first verse




posted on Mar, 4 2014 @ 08:15 PM
link   





posted on Mar, 4 2014 @ 08:17 PM
link   



posted on Mar, 4 2014 @ 08:27 PM
link   



posted on Mar, 4 2014 @ 08:35 PM
link   
Shot her over the phone ... queenofsheba ..bye..






edit on 4-3-2014 by RUFFREADY because: added..



posted on Mar, 4 2014 @ 08:36 PM
link   
Scorn not his simplicity..





posted on Mar, 4 2014 @ 08:46 PM
link   



posted on Mar, 4 2014 @ 08:46 PM
link   
I was 18 years old when
I went down to Dublin with a fistful
Of money and a cartload of dreams

"Take your time" said me father
Stop rushing like hell and remember all is not what it seems to be
For there's fellas that would cut ye for the coat on yer back
or the watch that you got from your mother, so take care me young bucko
And mind yourself well and will ya give this wee note to me brother?

At the time Uncle Benjy was a policeman in Brooklyn
And me father the youngest, looked after the farm
When a phonecall from America said
'Send the lad over'
And the oul fella said 'Sure wouldn't do any harm'
for I've spent me life working this dirty old ground
For a few pints of porter and the smell of a pound
sure maybe there's something you'll learn or you'll see
And you can bring it back home make it easy on me

So I landed at Kennedy and a big yellow taxi
Carried me and me bags through the streets and the rain
Well me poor heart was thumpin around with excitement
And I hardly even heard what the driver was sayin

We came in the Shore Parkway to the faltlands of Brooklyn
To me Uncle's apartment on East 53rd
I was feeling so happy I was humming a song and I sang "You're as free as a bird"

Well to shorten the story, what I found out that day, was that Benjy was shot down in an uptown foray and while I was flying my way to New York Poor Benjy was lying in a cold city morgue.

Well I phoned up the old fella told him the news
I could tell he could hardly stand up in his shoes, and he wept as he told me
'Go a. with the plans, and not to forget be a proud Irish man'

So I went to Nellies beside Fordham road, and i started to learn about lifting the load
But the heaviest thing that I carried that year
Was the bittersweet thought of my hometown so dear
I went home that December 'cause the oul fella died
Had to borrow the money from Phil on the side
And all the bright flowers and brass couldn't hide
The poor wasted face of me father

I sold up the oul farmyard for what it was worth, and into my bag stuck
A handful of earth then I boarded a train and I caught me a plane
And I found meself back in the US again.

It's been 22 years since I've set foot in Dublin
Me kids know to use the correct knife and fork
But I'll never forget the green grass and the rivers
As I keep law and order on the streets of New York.




posted on Mar, 4 2014 @ 08:52 PM
link   




posted on Mar, 4 2014 @ 08:54 PM
link   
Black is the colour of my true love's hair
Her lips are like some roses fair
She has the sweetest smile and the gentlest hands
And I love the ground whereon she stands.

I love my love and well she knows;
I love the ground whereon she goes
I wish the day it soon would come
When she and I could be as one.

I go the Clyde and I mourn and weep
For satisfied I never can be
I write her a letter, just a few short lines
And suffer death a thousand times.

Black is the colour of my true love's hair
Her lips are like some roses fair
She has the sweetest smile and the gentlest hands
And I love the ground whereon she stands.




posted on Mar, 4 2014 @ 08:57 PM
link   
reply to post by RUFFREADY
 



posted on Mar, 4 2014 @ 09:00 PM
link   




top topics



 
61
<< 8  9  10    12  13  14 >>

log in

join