Bhí jab agam, is bhí cailín Bhí rud éigin agam, mister, i mo shaol Chailleas mo jab sa chlós adhmaid faraor Shearg ár ngrá, bhí sé dian Oibrím anois ag ní gluaisteán Agus uisce de shíor ón spéir Is nach mothaíonn tú mar phaisinéir leat féin ar thraein.
Ar sise, ‘Jó, slán leat go fóill An rud ‘bhí ann, níl sé eadrainn níos mó’ Bhíos-sa fágtha ‘na diaidh im’ chadhan Cheannaigh sí ticéad ar an Central Line Is mé fá shuan, gabhann feadaíl i mo chluasa Mothaím a póg ina ceo ón spéir Is mothaímse i mo phaisinéir liom féin ar thraein
Aréir do chual’ do ghuth Tú ag caoineadh, caoineadh, tú leat féin go deo, Á rá nár shearg riamh do ghrá Is tú ag feitheamh liom, a stór Chuireas orm seaicéad, ritheas tríd an gcoill Ritheas is mheasas go bpléascfainn faoi dhó Is faoin ngealach, ár dteach ag lonrú B’eo mé tríd an gclós, tríd an doras do réab, Mo cheann lán de phian, an staighre liom suas, An seomra dubh, an leaba folamh Ansin chuala fead ag geonaíl Ar mo ghlúine do thit, chrom mo cheann is chaoin.
Ag luascadh oird a bhímse leis an iarnród Trascheangail á leagan, is uisce ón spéir Is nach mothaíonn tú mar phaisinéir leat féin ar thraein.
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
Chonac í ar an bhfaiche tosaigh A baitín ’na roithleán Chuamar beirt, ag marcaíocht, sir Is fuair deichniúr gan pheaca bás.
D’fhágamarna Lincoln, Nebraska Agus gunna teasctha ar mo ghlúin Go dtí na drochthailte, Wyoming, Dheineas slad agus mór-mharú.
Níl aon chathú orm ná brón As an méid ‘tá curtha i gcrích Ar a laghad ar feadh tamaillín Le bheith fíor bhí sé lán de spraoi.
An bhreith a tugadh ná go rabhamar ciontach Is dúirt an breitheamh go bhfaighinnse bás Meán oíche i stóras príosúin Is strapaí leathair orm á bhfásc’.
Sheriff, ag nóiméad na fírinne Mo mhuineál snaptha siar Le do thoil bíodh m’ainnir ghleoite Ar mo dhá ghlúin bhocht’ ina suí. Ní don saol seo mé dar leosan San fholús ollmhór beidh m’anamsa ar ball: Cén fáth a ndearna mé gach a ndearna mé Bhuel, sir, is suarach an saol é ‘ndeireadh thiar thall.
Nebraska
I saw her standing on her front lawn Just twirling her baton Me and her went for a ride, sir And ten innocent people died
From the town of Lincoln, Nebraska With a sawed off .410 on my lap Through to the badlands of Wyoming I killed everything in my path
I can't say that I'm sorry For the things that we done At least for a little while, sir Me and her we had us some fun
Now the jury brought in a guilty verdict And the judge he sentenced me to death Midnight in a prison storeroom With leather straps across my chest
Sheriff, when the man pulls that switch, sir And snaps my poor head back You make sure my pretty baby Is sitting right there on my lap
They declared me unfit to live Said into that great void my soul'd be hurled They wanted to know why I did what I did Well sir I guess there's just a meanness in this world
Rith an lae sea bíonn an t-allas te linn is an bhrionglóid Mheiriceánach ar strae, Istoíche bímse in árais na glóire, meaisín auto da fé Ag léim as cás ar Highway 9, cróm-roth, gás go béal is ag seasamh amach thar lín’ Whoah, béibí, san áit seo stróictear cnámh ón droim, tá an bás chugainn, tá nó féinmharú, ní mór dúinn éalú is sinn óg, Is bacaigh sinn, is saolaíodh chun reatha sinn, Ó sea, a stór
Wendy, le do thoil, is mian liom bheith mór leat, is do chuid físeanna a chosaint, Cuir do chosa thar an gciumhais veilbhit, do lámha figh thar mo chuid inneall, Le chéile d’fhéadfaimis éaló, chun reatha gan stad, béibí, gan filleadh go deo, Whoah, tar is siúil liom amuigh ar an sreang Mar, béibí, níl ionam ach tiománaí uaigneach, ach tá an mothúchán sin uaim, ’Fháil amach an fiáin atá grá, béibí, bhfuil sé fíor mar atá á rá, Ó an léireofá – Anois!
Lastall den Phálás, ladrainn ag béicíl síos an búlbhard, Cailíní ag cíoradh gruaige i scáthán, is buachaillí mar Gheingis Cán, An pháirc siamsaíochta ag éirí go lom, páistí gróigthe ar an trá, i gceobhrán, Is mian liom bás ‘fháil leat, Wendy, ar an tsráid anocht i bpóg a mhairfidh go brách. Huth!
Aon, dó, trí, ceathair!
Laochra briste ar an mbealach mór, seans eile acu bheith i gcumhacht, Gach éinne amuigh ar an raon anocht, ach féach thart níl aon éalú Le chéile, Wendy, beimid beo ar an uaigneas, beidh grá agam duit le gealtachas m’anama Whoa, lá éigin, n’fheadar cathain, Táimid chun a bheith san áit sin is mian linn a bheith ann, agus siúl ann faoin ngréin Go dtí sinn, bacaigh sinn, béib, saolaíodh chun reatha sinn Á, stóirín, bacaigh sinn, saolaíodh chun reatha sinn Seo leat, Wendy, bacaigh sinn, béib, saolaíodh chun reatha sinn
Whoah whoah whoah-whoah Hmm hmm hmm-hmm Ó-ó ó whoah whoah whoah-whoah Whoah ó ó ó whoah Hmm hmm hmm-hmm Whoah whoah whoah-whoah Whoah whoah whoah-whoah Whoah ó ó ó whoah
Tá cáil i bhfad agus i ngearr ar Bruce Springsteen. Tá clú ar a bheoléirithe paiseanta agus is cumadóir amhrán thar na bearta é. Baineann sé leas as ceol rithim agus gormacha, snagcheol, luath-racanról, ceol tíre agus soul. Cruthaíonn a chuid liricí rómánsacha fileata íomhánna dúinn de shaol na cosmhuintire, tírdhreacha uirbeacha New Jersey agus réigiúin láir Mheiriceá.
Tabharfaidh TÍR TAIRNGIRE:TIONSCADAL BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN ar aistear sinn, ar imram, go dtí 'tír tairngire' an amhránaí chun na físeanna aige a bhlaiseadh ó albaim ar nós Darkness on the Edge of Town, Nebraska agus The Ghost of Tom Joad. Is iad na hoirfidigh atá i mbun an aistir seo ná Liam Ó Maonlaí, guth agus pianó; Steve Cooney ar ghiotár, Nick Roth ar shacs; Robbie Perry i mbun cnaguirlisí agus Trevor Hutchinson ar dhord. Gabriel Rosenstock a thraschruthaigh na liricí. Margaret Lonergan a theilgfidh a cuid íomhánna agus na focail ar scáileán. Arna léiriú ag IMRAM Féile Litríochta Gaeilge.
Bruce Springsteen is legendary. Famed for his passionate live performances, he is a songwriter par excellence. His work taps into rhythm and blues, jazz, early rock 'n' roll, folk and soul. His romantic, poetic lyrics evoke the lives of working people, the urban landscapes of New Jersey, and the heartlands of contemporary America.
THE PROMISED LAND: THE BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN PROJECT takes us on a voyage to the 'promised land' of Springsteen's vision, drawing on albums such as Darkness on the Edge of Town, Nebraska and The Ghost of Tom Joad. The line-up features Liam Ó Maonlaí on vocals and piano; Steve Cooney on guitar; Nick Roth on saxophone; Robbie Perry on percussion and Trevor Hutchinson on bass. The lyrics have been translated into Irish by Gabriel Rosenstock. Screen projections by Margaret Lonergan. Produced by IMRAM Irish Literature Festival.
DÉ CEADAOIN 11 DEIREADH FÓMHAIR Wednesday 11 October 8.00pm PAVILION THEATRE, Dún Laoghaire Cead isteach/admission: €22/20 Booking (01) 231 2929 or www.paviliontheatre.ie
Táim ag faire ort ‘feadh i bhfad Cén t-am ab fhearr cén áit, dar leat Sinn ag teannadh linn ‘nois gan stad Agus d’fhéadfaimis seans a bheith cneas re cneas
Ní fios an dtiocfaidh an seans arís Níl craic ar bith amuigh ansin gan a chríoch Ní fios an dtiocfaidh an seans arís Níl craic ar bith nach n-imeoidh i ndísc Bímis dlúth, dlúth le chéile, [a] mhian.
Sea táimid éagsúil, tá a ghrá Ní hionann é ár leagan siúil Is stair a bhfuil laistiar dínn caithfear a rá Yé, cuir focal i mo chluas.
Ní fios an dtiocfaidh an seans arís Níl craic ar bith amuigh ansin gan a chríoch Ní fios an dtiocfaidh an seans arís Níl craic ar bith nach n-imeoidh i ndísc Bímis dlúth, dlúth le chéile, [a] mhian.
Bhuel tá caint go leor mar gheall ort Lig dóibh labhairt, níl éinne eile ach tú Tá ballaí go leor le leagan fós D’fhéadfaimisne iad a leagan, ceann ar cheann.
Ní fios an dtiocfaidh an seans arís Níl craic ar bith amuigh ansin gan a chríoch Ní fios an dtiocfaidh an seans arís Níl craic ar bith nach n-imeoidh i ndísc Bímis dlúth, dlúth le chéile, [a] mhian.
Let's Be Friends (Skin to Skin)
I been watchin' you a long time Trying to figure out where and when We been moving down that same line Time is now maybe we could get skin to skin
Don't know when this chance might come again Good times got a way of comin' to an end Don't know when this chance might come again Good times got a way of slippin' a-way Let's be friends, baby let's be friends
I know we're different you and me Got a different way of walkin' The time has come to let the past be history Yeah if we could just start talkin'
Don't know when this chance might come again Good things got a way of comin' to an end Don't know when this chance might come again Good things got a way of slippin' away Let's be friends, baby let's be friends
Do, do do doo do do do doo Do, do do doo do do do do doo Do, do do doo do do do doo Let's be friends Do, do do doo do do do doo Do, do do doo do do do doo Let's be friends
There's a lot of talk going 'round you Let them talk you know you're the only one There's a lot of walls need tearing down Together we could take them down one by one
Don't know when this chance might come again Good times got a way of comin' to an end Don't know when this chance might come again Good times got a way of slippin' away Let's be friends, baby let's be friends
Bhuel phléascadar an ‘chicken man’ in Philly aréir Phléascadar an tigh, arú Ar an gclárchosán tá scata trodairí ‘fáil réidh Tá an mafia go léir ‘g ullmhú.
Is tá trioblóid ag teacht chugainn ó stróinséirí Is an D.A. ag lorg sóláis Beidh ina chíor thuathail cheart ar an bpromanáid An coimisiún cearrbhachais chun a chac a dhéanamh ina dhrárs.
Sea bhuel cailltear gach ní, béibí, gan aon bhréag Ach cá bhfios nach dtagann ar ais gach ní ón éag Cuir do smideadh ort, do chuid gruaige fite Is buail liom anocht in Atlantic City.
Bhuel do fuaireas post is chuireas pinginí i leataobh Ach tá fiacha orm nach mbeadh ar fhear iontaoibh’ Tharraingíos amach a raibh sa Central Trust Is cheannaíos dhá thicéad ar an Coast City Bus.
Bhuel cailltear gach ní, béibí, gan aon bhréag Ach cá bhfios nach dtagann ar ais gach ní ón éag Cuir do smideadh ort, do chuid gruaige fite Is buail liom anocht in Atlantic City.
Bhuel tá deireadh le hádh agus d’fhuaraigh ár ngrá Ach fanfaidh mé leatsa go deo Seo linn amach mar tá ór ar an trá Sea cuir ort do stocaí, béibí , tá an oíche ag reo.
Is cailltear gach aon ní seans, gan aon bhréag Ach cá bhfios nach dtagann ar ais gach ní ón éag
Hú hú
Bhuel tá post á lorg agam ach deacair a fháil Níl ach buaiteoir is cailliúnaí ann, agus ná bí id’ sheasamh lasmuigh den Pháil, Bhuel táim bréan de bheith fágtha arís is arís Sea, a stór, bhuaileas leis an mboc seo, is táim chun gar beag a dhéanamh dó, sin sin.
Bhuel ‘s dócha cailltear gach ní, béibí, gan aon bhréag Ach cá bhfios nach dtagann ar ais gach ní ón éag Cuir do ghruaig in ord is gach rud fite Is buail liom anocht in Atlantic City. Buail liom anocht in Atlantic City Buail liom anocht in Atlantic City Buail liom anocht in Atlantic City Buail liom anocht in Atlantic City Buail liom anocht in Atlantic City Buail liom anocht in Atlantic City Buail liom anocht in Atlantic City Buail liom anocht in Atlantic City
Atlantic City
Well they blew up the chicken man in Philly last night Now they blew up his house too Down on the boardwalk they're getting ready for a fight Gonna see what them racket boys can do
Now there's trouble busting in from outta state And the D.A. can't get no relief Gonna be a rumble out on the promenade And the gambling commissions hanging on by the skin of its teeth
Well now everything dies baby that's a fact But maybe everything that dies someday comes back Put your makeup on, fix your hair up pretty And meet me tonight in Atlantic City
Well I got a job and tried to put my money away But I got debts that no honest man can pay So I drew what I had from the Central Trust And I bought us two tickets on that Coast City bus
Now baby everything dies baby that's a fact But maybe everything that dies someday comes back Put your makeup on, fix your hair up pretty And meet me tonight in Atlantic City
Now our luck may have died and our love may be cold But with you forever I'll stay We're going out where the sand's turning to gold So put on your stockings, baby, 'cause the night's getting cold
And maybe everything dies, that's a fact But maybe everything that dies someday comes back
Hoo hoo
Now I've been looking for a job but it's hard to find Down here it's just winners and losers and don't get caught on the wrong side of that line Well I'm tired of coming out on this losing end So honey last night I met this guy and I'm gonna do a little favor for him
Well I guess everything dies baby that's a fact But maybe everything that dies someday comes back Put your hair up nice and set up pretty And meet me tonight in Atlantic City Meet me tonight in Atlantic City Meet me tonight in Atlantic City Meet me tonight in Atlantic City Meet me tonight in Atlantic City Meet me tonight in Atlantic City Meet me tonight in Atlantic City Meet me tonight in Atlantic City Meet me tonight in Atlantic City
Oíche chiúin agus oíche an-fhliuch Mé fá shuan, mé chomh ciúin le luch Seo chugainn an boc a chuir an ruaig orainn Bhuel, arbh é sin an forairdeallaí?
Aimsir gharbh, an t-am againn á mheilt Sea, codladh ‘fháil i mball teolaí Agus tháinig póilín, bhí sé in am sinn fhéin a cheilt Hé, arbh é sin an forairdeallaí?
Bhuel abair cén fáth a n-iompraíonn sé é Abair cén fáth a n-iompraíonn sé é An gránghunna teasctha sin ina lámh’ A chomhdhaonnaí a leagan ar lár, an forairdeallaí, sea cén fáth? Whoa!
Bhuel, seo ag fánaíocht mé, yé, ó áit go háit Yé, seo ag fánaíocht mé, mmm, ó áit go háit, Yé, is níl aon oidhre orainn, ach radharc éigin as an Táin, ‘Dhé Arbh é sin d’fhorairdeallaí ?
Bhuel abair cén fáth a n-iompraíonn sé é Sea cén fáth a n-iompraíonn sé é Bata ár mbuailte ’na lámh’ An leagfadh sé fear ionraic ar lár, an forairdeallaí, sea cén fáth?
Wú, ó Ó ó ó á Wú, ó ó Ó ó ó ó, ó Wú, ó ó Wú, ó ó á Wú ó, á, á Wú ó, á á.
Vigilante Man
Rainy night down in the engine house Sleepin' just, just as still as a mouse A man came along and chase us out in the rain Well was that a vigilante man?
Stormy days, we pass the time away Yeah, sleeping in some good warm place And a cop come along, and we give him a little race Say was that a vigilante man?
Well tell me why does a vigilante man Tell me why does a vigilante man Carry that sawed off shotgun in his hands To shoot his brothers and sisters down, that no good vigilante man Whoa!
Well, I ramble around, yeah, from town to town Yeah, I ramble around, mm, from town to town Yeah and they run us around like a wild herd of cattle, lord Is that your vigilante man?
Well now why does that vigilante man Why does that vigilante man Carry that club in his hands Would he beat an innocent man down, that no good vigilante man?
Tá mo mhéar agam ar an truicear Ach níl muinín agam as éinn’ Nuair a fhéachaim ort sna súil’ Níl ach deamhain is cré. Táimid i bhfad ón seanfhód, Bobbie Tá an baile i bhfad i gcéin Braithim gaoth shalach ag séideadh Deamhain is cré.
Tá Dia le mo thaobh Is mé ag iarraidh teacht slán Ach más é is brí le teacht slán Teacht salach ar ghrá Rud an-láidir uamhan, béibí, Agus dubhaíonn an croí, sin é é, Tógfaidh d’anam diaga Le líonadh le deamhain is cré.
Bhuel, bhí taibhreamh a’m aréir Do bhí fuil is cloch’ gach áit An fhuil do thriomaigh sí Is boladh ag éirí Bhuel bhí taibhreamh agam fút, Bobbie I ngort na láibe is na gcnámh An fhuil do thriomaigh sí Is an boladh ag éirí.
Tá Dia lenár dtaobh Is sinn ag iarraidh teacht slán Ach más é is brí le teacht slán Teacht salach ar ghrá Rud an-láidir uamhan, béibí, Agus dubhaíonn an croí, sin é é, Tógfaidh d’anam diaga Le líonadh le deamhain is cré.
Níl aon bhean ar domhan ná fear ar bith Nach mian leo seasamh leis an gceart Faigh an grá atá Uaidh Is an creideamh is an neart Tá mo mhéar agam ar an truicear Is anocht táim imithe ar strae Nuair a fhéachaimse im’ chroí Níl ach deamhain is cré.
Bhuel, tá Dia le mo thaobh Is mé ag iarraidh teacht slán Ach más é is brí le teacht slán Teacht salach ar ghrá Rud an-láidir uamhan, béibí, Agus dubhaíonn an croí, sin é é, Tógfaidh d’anam diaga Le líonadh le deamhain is cré. Yé, tógfaidh d’anam diaga Le líonadh le deamhain is cré.
Devils and Dust
I got my finger on the trigger But I don't know who to trust When I look into your eyes There's just devils and dust We're a long, long way from home, Bobbie Home's a long, long way from us I feel a dirty wind blowing Devils and dust
I got God on my side And I'm just trying to survive What if what you do to survive Kills the things you love Fear's a powerful thing, baby It can turn your heart black you can trust It'll take your God filled soul And fill it with devils and dust
Well I dreamed of you last night In a field of blood and stone The blood began to dry The smell began to rise Well I dreamed of you last night, Bobbie In a field of mud and bone Your blood began to dry And the smell began to rise
We've got God on our side We're just trying to survive What if what you do to survive Kills the things you love Fear's a powerful thing, baby It'll turn your heart black you can trust It'll take your God filled soul Fill it with devils and dust It'll take your God filled soul Fill it with devils and dust
Now every woman and every man They wanna take a righteous stand Find the love that God wills And the faith that He commands I've got my finger on the trigger And tonight faith just ain't enough When I look inside my heart There's just devils and dust
Well I've got God on my side And I'm just trying to survive What if what you do to survive Kills the things you love Fear's a dangerous thing It can turn your heart black you can trust It'll take your God filled soul Fill it with devils and dust Yeah it'll take your God filled soul Fill it with devils and dust
Ar na ráillí tá na fir ag siúl Dul áit éigin is níl dul ar gcúl Tá na héileacaptair an mullach chugainn aniar Súp te sa champa faoin droichead á riar. Scuaine na mbochtán thar an gcoirnéal Fáilte, tá ord nua i réim Teaghlaigh san iardheisceart ina gcairt ina luí Níl áit ná jab acu ná scíth.
Bhuel is beo don bhealach mór san oích’ Ach níl éinne ag cur dallamullóg ar éinne ar ndóigh Táimse anseo cois na tine im’ shuí Mé sa tóir ar thaibhse Tom Joad
As a mhála codlata an leabhar urnaí Lasann Preacher is ólann sé a bhun toitín Fanacht cé bheidh chun tosaigh, cé bheidh chun deiridh, mo léir Insan íosbhealach, bosca cairtpháipéir
Go dtí an tír tairngire ticéad aon treo Tá gunnán i do ghlac is tá do bholg i mbun gleo Ar philiúr cloch sea ligeann tú do scíth Agus tú ag snámh san uiscerian.
Is is beo don bhealach mór san oích’ Cá bhfuil a thriall, is eol dúinn a threo Táimse anseo cois na tine im’ shuí Mé sa tóir ar thaibhse Tom Joad
Deir Tom, ‘’Mhaim, má tá duine á bhualadh ag póilín Má tá leanbh nuabheirthe ag lorg bia Má tá troid ann in aghaidh an phóir agus fuath san aer Cuardaigh, a Mhaim, agus féach Má tá duine ag troid ar son a phaiste féin Nó ag súil le jab áit éigin faoin ngréin Má tá duine ag streachailt chun a bheith saor Féach air, a Mhaim, feicfidh tú mé.’
Bhuel is beo don bhealach mór san oích’ Ach níl éinne ag cur dallamullóg ar éinne ar ndóigh Táimse anseo cois na tine im’ shuí Mé sa tóir ar thaibhse Tom Joad
The Ghost of Tom Joad
Men walking 'long the railroad tracks Going someplace and there's no going back Highway patrol choppers coming up over the ridge Hot soup on a campfire under the bridge Shelter line stretching 'round the corner Welcome to the new world order Families sleeping in their cars in the southwest No home, no job, no peace, no rest
Well the highway is alive tonight But nobody's kidding nobody about where it goes I'm sitting down here in the campfire light Searching for the ghost of Tom Joad
He pulls a prayer book out of his sleeping bag Preacher lights up a butt and he takes a drag Waiting for when the last shall be first and the first shall be last In a cardboard box 'neath the underpass You got a one-way ticket to the promised land You got a hole in your belly and a gun in your hand Sleeping on a pillow of solid rock Bathing in the city aqueduct
And the highway is alive tonight Where it's headed everybody knows I'm sitting down here in the campfire light Waiting on the ghost of Tom Joad
Tom said, "Mom, wherever there's a cop beating a guy Wherever a hungry newborn baby cries Where there's a fight against the blood and hatred in the air Look for me, Mom, I'll be there Where there's somebody fighting for a place to stand Or a decent job or a helping hand Wherever somebody's struggling to be free Look in their eyes, Mom, you'll see me"
The highway is alive tonight But nobody's kidding nobody about where it goes I'm sitting down here in the campfire light With the ghost of old Tom Joad
Thána aníos as an ngleanntán is nuair a bhíos-sa óg Do leanas-sa mo dhaid, dob é sin an nós, Mise is Mary, bhuaileas léi ar scoil, bhí sise seacht mbliana déag Amach linn as an ngleanntán síos go dtí an gort glas réidh.
Théimis síos chun na habhann is thumaimis insan abhainn síos Ó thíos cois na habhann sin a bhíos.
Ansin bhí Mary ag iompar, is ní dúirt sí féin níos mó Is nuair a bhíos-sa naoi déag is mé sa cheardchumann is pósta go hóg
Chuamar go dtí an giúistís agus dhein sé siúd an gnó Gan gáire pósta, ná siúl síos an aidhill, ná gúna is gan flós.
Chuamar an oíche sin chun na habhann is thumamar san abhainn síos Ó thíos cois na habhann sea do bhíos, yé yé yé
Fuaireas jab ag obair ar thógáil leis an Johnstown Company Le tamall níl mórán ar siúl, cuir an locht ar an eacnamaíocht, Bhuel na rudaí go léir a raibh tábhacht leo, bhuel mister do dh’imigh mar shneachta ar chnoc, Mary – cuma léi sa phoc*. Ach is cuimhin liom sinn ag marcaíocht i gcairt mo dhearthár, a colainn fliuch is donn thíos ag an taiscumar, Istoíche ar an mbruach gan suan le fáil, á tarraingt chugam chun go gcloisfinn a hanáil, Is tá na cuimhní sin anois dom’ chrá, mar mhallachtaí im’ lár, An bréag í brionglóid mura dtagann í gcrích, nó an seacht measa atá A chuireann síos chun na habhann mé, cé gurb eol dom í bheith i ndísc A chuireann síos chun na habhann mé anocht, aidhe yaidhe yaidhe, Síos chun na habhann, mé féin is mo mhian, Ó, síos chun na habhann ag marcaíocht, á, yé yé Ó . . .
[* nó b'fhéidir 'sa sioc'; is deacair an ls. a léamh]
The River
I come from down in the valley where mister when you're young They bring you up to do like your daddy done Me and Mary we met in high school when she was just seventeen We'd ride out of that valley down to where the fields were green
We'd go down to the river and into the river we'd dive Oh down to the river we'd ride
Then I got Mary pregnant and man that was all she wrote And for my nineteenth birthday I got a union card and a wedding coat We went down to the courthouse and the judge put it all to rest No wedding day smiles, no walk down the aisle, no flowers no wedding dress
That night we went down to the river and into the river we'd dive Oh down to the river we did ride, yay yay yay
I got a job working construction for the Johnstown Company But lately there ain't been much work on account of the economy Now all them things that seemed so important, well mister they vanished right into the air Now I just act like I don't remember, Mary acts like she don't care
But I remember us riding in my brother's car, her body tan and wet down at the reservoir At night on them banks I'd lie awake and pull her close just to feel each breath she'd take Now those memories come back to haunt me, they haunt me like a curse Is a dream a lie if it don't come true or is it something worse
That sends me down to the river, though I know the river is dry That sends me down to the river tonight, ay yay yay Down to the river, my baby and I Oh down to the river we ride, ah yay yay Ooh ooh ooh ooh, ooh ooh-ooh-ooh Ooh-ooh-ooh ooh ooh ooh, ooh ooh-ooh-ooh Ooh ooh ooh ooh, ooh ooh-ooh-ooh Ooh-ooh-ooh ooh ooh ooh, ooh-ooh
Céile is páistí i mBaltimore, Jack Chuas amach ag marcaíocht is níor thána ar ais Mar bheadh abhainn is nach bhfuil fhios aici a slí Do chuaigh mé ar strae, táim ag imeacht de shíor.
Féach gach éinne is a chroí ar bís Féach gach éinne is a chroí ar bís Airgead síos agus lean ort ag spraoi Féach gach éinne is a – a chroí ar bís. Whoa Do bhuaileas léi istigh i mbeár Is thit i ngrá, ní fada a bhíos ar bís Níorbh fhada go raibh gach aon diabhal rud ar lár: Táimse ar ais i nDún Laoghaire* arís.
Féach gach éinne is a chroí ar bís Féach gach éinne is a chroí ar bís Airgead síos agus lean ort ag spraoi Féach gach éinne is a – a chroí ar bís.
Lá lá lá lá lá lá Ó yé Lá lá lá lá lá lá Tá gach éinne ag lorg ionad scíth’ Tá tigh ó chuile dhuine faoin ngréin Is cuma sa sioc cad tá siad á rá Ní maith le héinne a bheith leis féin Hé yé hé
Féach gach éinne is a chroí ar bís Féach gach éinne is a chroí ar bís Airgead síos agus lean ort ag spraoi Féach gach éinne is a – a chroí ar bís. (Féach gach éinne is a chroí ar bís) Ó yé (Féach gach éinne is a-) a chroí ar bís (Airgead síos agus lean ort ag spraoi) Ó yé (Féach gach éinne is a chroí ar bís) Ó yé Lá lá lá lá lá lá Ó yé Lá lá lá lá lá lá Ó yé Hmmm Ó ---------------------- (*Kingstown)
Deora ar an gcathair Bad Scooter ag lorg a chlais’ Slí chun bogadh ann is deacair Is an domhan go léir ag siúl go deas Bhuel, b’fhearr do gach éinne bogadh i leataoibh Ar an drochthaobh atáimse ag rith Is leis an bhfalla atá mo dhroim.
Tenth Avenue reoite Tenth Avenue reoite
Bhuel, bhí mé tréigthe insan dufair Is shúigh mé isteach an teas go léir ‘bhí uathu Bhí an oíche dubh, ach an cosán geal Is solas na mbeo ag dul chucu As fuinneoigín árasáin, raidió i mbun gleo Timpeall an chúinne liom, is bhí an domhan ag reo An chéad rud eile Tenth Avenue reoite Tenth Avenue reoite
Is tá mé liom féin, go hiomlán A mhic, ba cheart duit é a thuiscint! Agus táim liom féin, i m’aonar táim Agus táim ar fán.
Nuair a tharla athrú Chuaigh an Fear Mór leis an mbuíon Ón gcósta go dtí an chathair A lámh in airde ag gach cailín Táim chun luí siar agus gáire go deas Mar Scooter is an Fear Mór, roinnfidh siad é ‘na leath, ó
Tenth Avenue reoite Tenth Avenue reoite Tenth Avenue reoite Tenth Avenue reoite Tá mé ag tagairt do – abair Yé, tada ach an – abair Tá mé ag tagairt don, abair Ní tada é ach Tenth, Tenth, Tenth, Tenth, Tenth, Tenth, Tenth, Tenth, Tenth, Tenth, Tenth, Tenth, Tenth Tá mé ag tagairt don Tenth, Tenth Avenue reoite Tenth Avenue reoite Tenth Avenue reoite
Tenth Avenue Freeze Out
Tenth Avenue freeze-out Tenth Avenue freeze-out Tenth Avenue freeze-out Tenth Avenue freeze-out I'm talking about a, tell me Yeah, nothing but a, tell me I'm talking about the, tell me Ain't nothing but a Tenth, Tenth, Tenth, Tenth, Tenth, Tenth, Tenth, Tenth, Tenth, Tenth, Tenth, Tenth, Tenth I'm talking about the Tenth, Tenth Avenue freeze-out Tenth Avenue freeze-out Tenth Avenue freeze-out
In oirthuaisceart Ohio, siar in ocht déag’s a trí James is Danny Heaton fuair siad an mhian a bhí in Yellow Creek Thóg siad foirnéis soinneáin, thóg siad í cois trá Dhein siad caora gunnaí mhóir a thug an tAontas leo san ár. Is in Youngstown, is in Youngstown, A Jenny dhil, mé báite ann, A stóirín in Youngstown.
Bhuel, mo Daidí is na foirnéisí, chomh te le leac na bpian, Mise tagtha ó ‘Nam, d’oibríos i mo scairféir, jab ‘bheadh ag teacht leis an diabhal is a mhian, Cóc tacanaíte is aolchloch ‘chothaigh an chlann is thuill mo phá, Na simléir ag síneadh mar lámha Dé chuig firmimint álainn de shúiche is láib. Is in Youngstown, is in Youngstown, Jenny dhil, mé báite ann, A stóirín in Youngstown.
Bhuel tháinig mo dhaidí chun na monarchan tar éis dó teacht ó pháirc an áir Níl sa chlós ach dramh is spallaí, ar sé, ‘Scrios níos mó ná Hitler laistigh de lá.’ Yé, anseo a tógadh buama is tanc a bhuaigh na cogaí dúinn Chuireamar iad dtí an Chóiré is Vítneam, an é gur chuireadar a saol amú. Is in Youngstown, is in Youngstown, A Jenny dhil, mé báite ann, A stóirín in Youngstown.
Sea ón Monongahela Valley go dtí Mesabi Iron Range Na mianta guail in Appalachia, níl athrú ar an scéal, Seacht gcéad tonna miotail in aghaidh an lae, is deir tú gur athraigh an saol, Mise a dhein an saibhreas duit, saibhir is ní heol duit cé mé.
Is Youngstown, is Youngstown, A Jenny dhil, mé báite ann, A stóirín in Youngstown.
T’réis mo bháis, ní shantóinnse na flaithis, ní bheadh an obair ar mo mhian, Guímse go dtiocfaidh Fear na gCrúb chugam le bheith i measc na bhfoirnéis’ ar leac na bpian.
Youngstown
Here in northeast Ohio, back in eighteen-o-three James and Danny Heaton found the ore that was linin' Yellow Creek They built a blast furnace here along the shore And they made the cannon balls that helped the Union win the war
Here in Youngstown, here in Youngstown My sweet Jenny I'm sinkin' down Here darlin' in Youngstown
Well my daddy worked the furnaces, kept 'em hotter than hell I come home from 'Nam worked my way to scarfer, a job that'd suit the devil as well Well taconite coke and limestone fed my children and made my pay Them smokestacks reachin' like the arms of God into a beautiful sky of soot and clay
Here in Youngstown, here in Youngstown Sweet Jenny I'm sinkin' down Here darlin' in Youngstown
Well my daddy come on the Ohio works when he come home from World War Two Now the yard's just scrap and rubble, he said "Them big boys did what Hitler couldn't do." Yeah these mills they built the tanks and bombs that won this country's wars We sent our sons to Korea and Vietnam, now we're wondering what they were dyin' for
Here in Youngstown, here in Youngstown My sweet Jenny I'm sinkin' down Here darlin' in Youngstown
From the Monongahela valley to the Mesabi iron range To the coal mines of Appalachia, the story's always the same Seven hundred tons of metal a day, now sir you tell me the world's changed Once I made you rich enough, rich enough to forget my name
And Youngstown, and Youngstown My sweet Jenny I'm sinkin' down Here darlin' in Youngstown
When I die I don't want no part of heaven, I would not do heaven's work well I pray the devil comes and takes me to stand in the fiery furnaces of hell
An-luath ar maidin, ón monarcha fead, Gléasann an duine t'réis éirí ón nead, Tógann a lón, siúlann faoi sholas an lae Is saol oibre, saol oibre, is saol oibre é.
Trí árais na heagla, is trí árais na péin' Tá mo dhaidí ag siúl leis faoin mbáisteach is é leis féin Geataí na monarchan, geataí móra an tsaoil Is saol oibre, saol oibre, is saol oibre é.
Deireadh an lae, á fhogairt ag fead ghéar, Daoine ar a dtriall, na súile ag éag, Agus creid uaimse a mhic ó, beidh duine éigin anocht i bpéin, Is saol oibre, saol oibre, is saol oibre é. Mar is saol oibre, saol oibre, is saol oibre é.
Factory
Early in the morning factory whistle blows Man rises from bed and puts on his clothes Man takes his lunch, walks out in the morning light It's the working, the working, just the working life
Through the mansions of fear, through the mansions of pain I see my daddy walking through them factory gates in the rain Factory takes his hearing, factory gives him life The working, the working, just the working life
End of the day, factory whistle cries Men walk through these gates with death in their eyes And you just better believe, boy, somebody's gonna get hurt tonight It's the working, the working, just the working life Cause it's the working, the working, just the working life
Tóg mé a stóirín, faoi mar atáim Bímis dlúth, agus tuig a ghrá Gur airc is ea mian, is tine m'anál' - Grá is ea féasta a bheathaíonn cách.
Seo leat is tuig é seo, a ghrá An mothú sin is mé faoi do lámh T'rom do lámh, tar liom faoin mbraillín Níl teacht acu ort Teacht acu ort Teacht acu ort
Is le leannáin, leannáin an oíche Is leis an oíche í an drúis Is le leannáin, leannáin an oíche Fúinne an oíche, [an] oíche fúinn.
Má bhíonn amhras orm liom féin Cligeann grá ó ghuthán i gcéin Grá is ea aingeal i bhfoirm drúis' Anseo sa leaba go mbreacfaidh an lá
Seo leat is tuig é seo, a mhian an mothú sin agus mé id' ghiall T'rom do lámh is an ghrian 'dul faoi Níl baint acu leat Baint acu leat Baint acu leat
Is le leannáin, leannáin an oíche Is leis an oíche í an drúis Is le leannáin, leannáin an oíche Fúinne an oíche, [an] oíche fúinn.
Le grá bíonn dabht sa suan An fáinne fí ag dó, a ghrá gan tú Ní mhairfidh mé beo, maith dhom an tnúthán, Dóiteán, tá an t-am sin ann, thar gach mothú Sín chugam do lámh Chugam do lámh Chugam do lámh
Á, is le leannáin, leannáin an oíche Is leis an oíche í an drúis Is le leannáin, leannáin an oíche Fúinne an oíche, [an] oíche fúinn. Le beirt leannán anocht an oíche Má tá an oíche seo inár gcúis Is le leannáin, leannáin an oíche Is leis an ngrá, an grá, an oíche Is le leannáin, leannáin an oíche Is leis an oíche í an drúis Dá mbeadh an oíche seo inár gcúis Is le leannáin, leannáin an oíche
Because the Night
Take me now baby here as I am
Pull me close, try and understand Desire is hunger is the fire I breathe Love is a banquet on which we feed
Come on now try and understand The way I feel when I'm in your hands Take my hand come undercover They can't hurt you now Can't hurt you now Can't hurt you now
Because the night belongs to lovers Because the night belongs to lust Because the night belongs to lovers Because the night belongs to us
Have I doubt when I'm alone Love is a ring, the telephone Love is an angel disguised as lust Here in our bed until the morning comes
Come on now try and understand The way I feel under your command Take my hand as the sun descends They can't touch you now Can't touch you now Can't touch you now
Because the night belongs to lovers Because the night belongs to lust Because the night belongs to lovers Because the night belongs to us
With love we sleep with doubt The vicious circle turns and burns without You I cannot live, forgive the yearning Burning, I believe it's time, too real to feel So touch me now Touch me now Touch me now
Ahh because the night belongs to lovers Because the night belongs to lust Because the night belongs to lovers Because the night belongs to us
Because tonight there are two lovers If we believe in the night we trust Because the night belongs to lovers Because the night belongs to love Because the night belongs to lovers Because the night belongs to lust Could we believe the night we're lovers Could we believe in the night we trust Because the night belongs to lovers...
Ar luasraon nathrach i ngaineamhlach Utah Piocaim suas m’airgead is ar ais liom arís Tiomáint liom thar Waynesboro, fógra glas, Tá an raidió ar siúl, an t-am ag dul as Garáiste dhaid, mé ag obair go dian Tóir ar bhrionglóidí, ag tiomáint istoích’ Is gearr go mbeadsa féin i gceannas, a mhian.
Tá glam ó ghadhair na sráid’ Már dóibh siúd is léir Dá bhféadfainnse nóiméad a choinneáil im’ lámh Mister, ní garsún mé, táimse i m’fhear Tír tairngire atá uaim go géar
Dheineas mo chion le bheith mar atáim Éirímse gach aon mhaidin, ag sclábhaíocht gach lá, Ach dalltar an tsúil is fuaraíonn an fhuil Uaireanta bím chomh lag go bpléascfainn le fonn goil Phléascfainn is an baile seo a lot Scian im ghlac, an phian á stróiceadh ó m’ucht ’Bhfuil duine ar bith ann mar táimse anocht?
Tá glam ó ghadhair na sráid’ Már dóibh siúd is léir Dá bhféadfainnse nóiméad a choinneáil im’ lámh Mister, ní garsún mé, táimse i m’fhear Tír tairngire atá uaim go géar
~ ~ ~ Bhuel tá néal dubh ag éirí ón ngaineamh aníos Phacálas cás is tá m’aghaidh caol díreach ar an stoirm Tornádó a bheidh ann is beidh gach rud ar lár Nach seasfaidh an fód go teann más gá Scaipfear an aisling a dhein tú a chloí Scaipfear an aisling a bhris do chroí Scaipfear na bréaga a d’fhág caillte thú, gan aon ní is bristechroíoch.
Tá glam ó ghadhair na sráid’ Már dóibh siúd is léir Dá bhféadfainnse nóiméad a choinneáil im’ lámh Mister, ní garsún mé, táimse i m’fhear Tír tairngire atá uaim go géar Tír tairngire atá uaim go géar Tír tairngire atá uaim go géar
Bruce Springsteen
On a rattlesnake speedway in the Utah desert I pick up my money and head back into town Driving cross the Waynesboro county line I got the radio on and I'm just killing time Working all day in my daddy's garage Driving all night chasing some mirage Pretty soon little girl I'm gonna take charge
The dogs on Main Street howl 'cause they understand If I could take one moment into my hands Mister I ain't a boy, no I'm a man And I believe in a promised land
I've done my best to live the right way I get up every morning and go to work each day But your eyes go blind and your blood runs cold Sometimes I feel so weak I just want to explode Explode and tear this whole town apart Take a knife and cut this pain from my heart Find somebody itching for something to start
The dogs on Main Street howl 'cause they understand If I could reach one moment into my hands Mister I ain't a boy, no I'm a man And I believe in a promised land
Hmm Hmmm Hmmmm
Well there's a dark cloud rising from the desert floor I packed my bags and I'm heading straight into the storm Gonna be a twister to blow everything down That ain't got the faith to stand its ground Blow away the dreams that tear you apart Blow away the dreams that break your heart Blow away the lies that leave you nothing but lost and brokenhearted
Well the dogs on Main Street howl 'cause they understand If I could take one moment into my hands Mister I ain't a boy, no I'm a man And I believe in a promised land And I believe in a promised land And I believe in a promised land
Tá Chevy seasca naoi agam le trí nócha sé Cinn sorcóra is Hurst ar an urlár Ag feitheamh anocht thíos sa chlós páirceála Lasmuigh den Seven-Eleven ‘tá: Mise ‘s mo chara Sonny thógamar í ón mbonn Agus bíonn sé liom ó áit go háit Is ar son an airgid é is sin a bhfuil ann Is sin mar ‘bhíonn againne ó lá go lá.
Anocht, anocht tá an stráice i gceart Is beidh pléascadh ann mar táimse faoi dháir Tá an samhradh ann, gach ní i gceart Le haghaidh rásaíocht’ ar an tsráid.
Bíonn an t-aicsean uainn gach uile lá Is clúdaímidne an stát thoir thuaidh Nuair a dhúntar an stráic’ ritear iad ar an tsráid Ó na bóithríní tine is lú
Tá daoine a éiríonn as an rás Is faigheann siad bás de réir a chéile gach lá Daoine a dhéanann naoi go dtí a cúig Roimh dóibh rásaíocht ar an tsráid
Anocht, anocht tá an stráice i gceart Is beidh pléascadh ann mar táimse faoi dháir Glaoigh os ard ar fud an domhain, bí ag rásaíocht ar an tsráid.
Do bhuaileas léi fadó ar an stráic’ I gCamaro bhí, leis an mboc ó L.A. Shéideas an Camaro de mo dhroim is chuaigh mé féin is mo stór i gcéin Ach féach na roic atá faoi shúile mo ghrá Is caoineann go gcodlaíonn sí istoích’ Abhaile liom tá an tigh faoi smúit Osnaíonn sí, Stóirín ‘bhfuil tú ceart go leor, Ina suí sa phóirse i dtigh a daid Na brionglóidí aici á ndó Ag stánadh ar an oíche go deo Na súile a deir gur fuath leo a bheith beo Do na stróinséirí uile is d’aingil an luais I dtír challánach seo na n-óg Anocht me féin is mo stór, síos, chun na farraige síos Ár lámha á ní, ó bhó.
An mótarbhealach sé tá geal As ár mbealach, mister, fág an áit, An samhradh ann, agus seo ár seal Le haghaidh rásaíocht’ ar an tsráid.
"Racing In The Street"
I got a sixty-nine Chevy with a 396 Fuelie heads and a Hurst on the floor She's waiting tonight down in the parking lot Outside the Seven-Eleven store Me and my partner Sonny built her straight out of scratch And he rides with me from town to town We only run for the money got no strings attached We shut 'em up and then we shut 'em down
Tonight, tonight the strip's just right I wanna blow 'em off in my first heat Summer's here and the time is right For racing in the street
We take all the action we can meet And we cover all the north east state When the strip shuts down we run 'em in the street From the fire roads to the interstate Some guys they just give up living And start dying little by little, piece by piece Some guys come home from work and wash up And go racing in the street
Tonight, tonight the strip's just right I wanna blow 'em all out of their seats Calling out around the world, we're going racing in the street
I met her on the strip three years ago In a Camaro with this dude from L.A. I blew that Camaro off my back and drove that little girl away But now there's wrinkles around my baby's eyes And she cries herself to sleep at night When I come home the house is dark She sighs "Baby did you make it all right" She sits on the porch of her daddy's house But all her pretty dreams are torn She stares off alone into the night With the eyes of one who hates for just being born For all the shut down strangers and hot rod angels Rumbling through this promised land Tonight my baby and me we're gonna ride to the sea And wash these sins off our hands
Tonight tonight the highway's bright Out of our way mister you best keep 'Cause summer's here and the time is right For racing in the street
Ar luasraon nathrach i ngaineamhlach Utah Piocaim suas m’airgead is ar ais liom arís Tiomáint liom thar Waynesboro, fógra glas, Tá an raidió ar siúl, an t-am ag dul as Garáiste dhaid, mé ag obair go dian Tóir ar bhrionglóidí, ag tiomáint istoích’ Is gearr go mbeadsa féin i gceannas, a mhian.
Tá glam ó ghadhair na sráid’ Már dóibh siúd is léir Dá bhféadfainnse nóiméad a choinneáil im’ lámh Mister, ní garsún mé, táimse i m’fhear Tír tairngire atá uaim go géar
Dheineas mo chion le bheith mar atáim Éirímse gach aon mhaidin, ag sclábhaíocht gach lá, Ach dalltar an tsúil is fuaraíonn an fhuil Uaireanta bím chomh lag go bpléascfainn le fonn goil Phléascfainn is an baile seo a lot Scian im ghlac, an phian á stróiceadh ó m’ucht ’Bhfuil duine ar bith ann mar táimse anocht?
Tá glam ó ghadhair na sráid’ Már dóibh siúd is léir Dá bhféadfainnse nóiméad a choinneáil im’ lámh Mister, ní garsún mé, táimse i m’fhear Tír tairngire atá uaim go géar
~ ~ ~ Bhuel tá néal dubh ag éirí ón ngaineamh aníos Phacálas cás is tá m’aghaidh caol díreach ar an stoirm Tornádó a bheidh ann is beidh gach rud ar lár Nach seasfaidh an fód go teann más gá Scaipfear an aisling a dhein tú a chloí Scaipfear an aisling a bhris do chroí Scaipfear na bréaga a d’fhág caillte thú, gan aon ní is bristechroíoch.
Tá glam ó ghadhair na sráid’ Már dóibh siúd is léir Dá bhféadfainnse nóiméad a choinneáil im’ lámh Mister, ní garsún mé, táimse i m’fhear Tír tairngire atá uaim go géar Tír tairngire atá uaim go géar Tír tairngire atá uaim go géar
Bruce Springsteen
The Promised Land
On a rattlesnake speedway in the Utah desert I pick up my money and head back into town Driving cross the Waynesboro county line I got the radio on and I'm just killing time Working all day in my daddy's garage Driving all night chasing some mirage Pretty soon little girl I'm gonna take charge
The dogs on Main Street howl 'cause they understand If I could take one moment into my hands Mister I ain't a boy, no I'm a man And I believe in a promised land
I've done my best to live the right way I get up every morning and go to work each day But your eyes go blind and your blood runs cold Sometimes I feel so weak I just want to explode Explode and tear this whole town apart Take a knife and cut this pain from my heart Find somebody itching for something to start
The dogs on Main Street howl 'cause they understand If I could reach one moment into my hands Mister I ain't a boy, no I'm a man And I believe in a promised land
Hmm Hmmm Hmmmm
Well there's a dark cloud rising from the desert floor I packed my bags and I'm heading straight into the storm Gonna be a twister to blow everything down That ain't got the faith to stand its ground Blow away the dreams that tear you apart Blow away the dreams that break your heart Blow away the lies that leave you nothing but lost and brokenhearted
Well the dogs on Main Street howl 'cause they understand If I could take one moment into my hands Mister I ain't a boy, no I'm a man And I believe in a promised land And I believe in a promised land And I believe in a promised land
