标题:Thousands are Sailing
艺人:The Pogues
专辑:If I Should Fall From Grace With God - Based on live set.
作词:Phillip Chevron
作曲:Phillip Chevron
制谱人:Gabhorr
节拍:♩ = 125
音轨:
- Bass- Hunt (+Master Track MIDI Control) - 原声贝司 Acoustic Bass
- Cittern- Woods - 筝 Koto
- Tin Whistle- Stacy - 哨 Whistle
- Banjo- Finer/ Vocals- MacGowan - 班卓 Banjo
- Keyboard Accordian- Fearnley - 手风琴 Accordion
- Author/Rhythm Guitar- Chevron - 钢弦吉他 Acoustic Guitar(steel)
- Drums- Rankin - 敲击乐器
注释:Theisland it issilent now but theghosts still haunt thewaves, and atorch lights up afamished man whomfortune could not save. Did youwork upon the railroads? Did yourid the streets ofcrime? Were yourdollars from the White-house? Were theyfrom the Five-and- Dime?Do the old songs taunt orcheer you, and canthey still make youcry? Did youcount the months andyears, or did yourteardrops quicklydry? "Oh no"said he, "T'wasnot to be; on a coffin ship Icame here, and Inever evengot so far thatthey could change myname."Thousands aresailing a-cross the WesternOcean to aland of oppor-tunity thatsome of them maynever see.Fortune pre-vailing a-cross the WesternOcean theirbellies full, theirspirits free, they'llbreak the chains ofpoverty! And they'lldance...InManhattan's deserttwilight, in thedeath of after-noon, we steppedhand in hand downBroadway, like thefirst men on theMoon, and "TheBlackbird" broke thesilence as youwhistled it sosweet. And inBrendan Behan'sfootsteps I fellup and down thestreet. So wesaid goodnight toBroadway, givingit our best re-gards, tipped ourhats to MisterCohen, dear oldTimes Square's favouritebard. And weraised a glass toJ.F.K., and adozen more be-sides. When Igot back to myempty room I sup-pose I must havecried.Thousands aresailing a-gain across theocean where thehand of opper-tunity drawstickets in alottery.Postcards we'remailing ofsky-blue skys andoceans fromrooms that daylightnever sees, andlights don't glow onChristmas trees. And they'lldance to the music and they'lldance...Thousands aresailing a-cross the WesternOcean where thehand of opper-tunity drawstickets in a lottery. Where-e'er we go wecelebrate theland that makes usrefugees. Fromfear of priests with empty plates;from guilt andweeping effergies. Still wedance to the music and wedance...
标记:4 bar tune upIntroVerse1Chorus1FillVerse2ChorusFillBridgeChorusOutroFIN
歌词:
Artist: Pogues
Album: The Best Of The Pogues
Title: Thousands Are Sailing
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The island it is silent now
But the ghosts still haunt the waves
And the torch lights up a famished man
Who fortune could not save
Did you work upon the railroad?
Did you rid the streets of crime?
Were your dollars from the "White House"?
Were they from the "Five and Dime"?
Did the old songs taunt or cheer you?
And did they still make you cry?
Did you count the months and years?
Or did your teardrops quickly dry?
Ah, No, says he 'twas not to be
On a coffin ship I came here
And I never even got so far
That they could change my name
Thousands are sailing
Across the Western Ocean
To a land of opportunity
That some of them will never see
Fortune prevailing
Across the Western Ocean
Their bellies full
And their spirits free
They'll break the chains of poverty
And they'll dance
In Manhattan's desert twilight
In the death of afternoon
We stepped hand in hand on Broadway
Like the first man on the moon
And "The Blackbird" broke the silence
As you whistled it so sweet
And in Brendan Behan's footsteps
I danced up and down the street
Then we said goodnight to Broadway
Giving it our best regards
Tipped our hats to Mister Cohan
Dear old Times Square's favourite bard
Then we raised a glass to J.F.K.
And a dozen more besides
When I got back to my empty room
I suppose I must have cried
Thousands are sailing
Again across the ocean
Where the hand of opportunity
Draws tickets in a lottery
Postcards we're mailing
Of sky-blue skies and oceans
From rooms the daylight never sees
Where lights don't glow on Christmas trees
But we dance to the music
And we dance
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Thousands are sailing
Across the Western Ocean
Where the hand of opportunity
Draws tickets in a lottery
Where e'er we go, we celebrate
The land that makes us refugees
From fear of Priests with empty plates
From guilt and weeping effigies
But we dance to the music
And we dance
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