Musicata dai The Dreadnoughts
This afternoon was the colour of water falling through sunlight;
The trees glittered with the tumbling of leaves;
The sidewalks shone like alleys of dropped maple leaves,
And the houses ran along them laughing out of square, open windows.
Under a tree in the park,
Two little boys, lying flat on their faces,
Were carefully gathering red berries
To put in a pasteboard box.
Some day there will be no war,
Then I shall take out this afternoon
And turn it in my fingers,
And remark the sweet taste of it upon my palate,
And note the crisp variety of its flights of leaves.
To-day I can only gather it
And put it into my lunch-box,
For I have time for nothing
But the endeavour to balance myself
Upon a broken world.
The trees glittered with the tumbling of leaves;
The sidewalks shone like alleys of dropped maple leaves,
And the houses ran along them laughing out of square, open windows.
Under a tree in the park,
Two little boys, lying flat on their faces,
Were carefully gathering red berries
To put in a pasteboard box.
Some day there will be no war,
Then I shall take out this afternoon
And turn it in my fingers,
And remark the sweet taste of it upon my palate,
And note the crisp variety of its flights of leaves.
To-day I can only gather it
And put it into my lunch-box,
For I have time for nothing
But the endeavour to balance myself
Upon a broken world.
envoyé par Dq82 - 25/9/2025 - 16:57
Langue: anglais
2017
Foreign skies
![[[https://t2.genius.com/unsafe/284x284/https%3A%2F%2Fimages.genius.com%2Fe8285d9153e41400a97887b808764d19.1000x1000x1.png|Foreign skies]](img/upl/https3A2F2Fimages.genius.com2Fe8285d9153e41400a97887b808764d19.1000x1000x1.png "[[https://t2.genius.com/unsafe/284x284/https%3A%2F%2Fimages.genius.com%2Fe8285d9153e41400a97887b808764d19.1000x1000x1.png|Foreign skies]")
Foreign Skies is a concept album descriribing the first world war. From the intial call to arms, to women’s suffragests to a soldier being executed for cowardice, each song tells the story from a different perspective at a different time.
Up High - Foreign Skies - Daughters of the Sun - Amiens Polka - The Bay of Suvla - Anna Maria - Jericho - Black and White - A Broken World - Black Letters - Back Home in Bristol
A Broken World is a spoken word song putting the poem September, 1918 by Amy Lowell to music.
A BROKEN WORLD
The trees glittered with the tumbling of leaves;
The sidewalks shone like alleys of dropped maple leaves
And the houses ran along them laughing out of square, open windows
Under a tree in the park
Two little boys, lying flat on their faces
Were carefully gathering red berries
To put in a pasteboard box
Some day there will be no war
Then I shall take out this afternoon
And turn it in my fingers
And remark the sweet taste of it upon my palate
And note the crisp variety of its flights of leaves
Today I can only gather it
And put it into my lunch-box
For I have time for nothing
But the endeavour to balance myself
Upon a broken world
The trees glittered with the tumbling of leaves;
The sidewalks shone like alleys of dropped maple leaves
And the houses ran along them laughing out of square, open windows
Under a tree in the park
Two little boys, lying flat on their faces
Were carefully gathering red berries
To put in a pasteboard box
Some day there will be no war
Then I shall take out this afternoon
And turn it in my fingers
And remark the sweet taste of it upon my palate
And note the crisp variety of its flights of leaves
Today I can only gather it
And put it into my lunch-box
For I have time for nothing
But the endeavour to balance myself
Upon a broken world
envoyé par Dq82 - 25/9/2025 - 17:01
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