Freedom Come Aa Ye
Hamish HendersonLa versione dei Fairport Convention, nel disco “House Full –... | |
Freedom Come All Ye Rough the wind in the clear day’s dawning Blowing cloud billows heaving 'cross the bay But there’s more than the wind a-blowing Through the Great Valleys of the world today It’s a wind that would cause our masters Tyrants who think themselves so fine and gay Blown away to some distant island Where no more will they have their way Never more will our country’s finest March to war at some liar’s hollow cry Nor will children from town or country Mourn the men sailing off to fight and die Broken families in lands we conquered Will curse 'Scotland the Brave' no more, no more Black and white will be one together Strike the slums and their landlords sore So come all you who love your freedom Don’t believe those who preach their tales of doom In your house all the children dwelling Will find bread, drink and gen-rous room When MacLean comes home to greet us Rose and cherry will blossom in the morn And a black lad from old Nyanga Breaks the cruel power of the tyrants down | BATTLE OF THE SOMME Rough the wind in the clear day's dawning Blows the clouds heels for gowdie ow'r the bay But there's mair nor a rough wind blawing Through the great glen o' the world a' day It's a thought that will garrow rottens A' thae rogues that ken gallus, fresh and gay Tak' the road and see gallus loanins For they're ill 'ployed tae sport and play Nae mair would the bonnie callants March tae war when our braggarts crousely craw Nor wee weans frae parteen and clachan Mourn the ships sailing doon the Broomielaw Broken faimlies in lands we've herriet Will curse Scotland the Brave nae mair, nae mair Black and white ane til ither mairriet Mak' the vile barracks o' thier masters bare So come all ye at hame wi' freedom Never heed what the huddies croak for doom In your hoose a' the bairns o' Adam Can find bread, barley bread and painted room When Maclean meets wi' his friens in Springburn A' the roses and geens will turn tae bloom And a black boy frae off Nyanga Ding the fell gallows o' the burghers' doon |