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Youngstown

Bruce Springsteen
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OriginalIrish transcreation by Gabriel Rosenstock
YOUNGSTOWN

Here in northeast Ohio
Back in eighteen-o-three
James and Dan Heaton
Found the ore that was linin' Yellow Creek
They built a blast furnace
Here along the shore
And they made the cannonballs
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 then hell
I come home from 'Nam worked my way to scarfer
A job that'd suit the devil as 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
My sweet Jenny I'm sinkin' down
Here darlin' in Youngstown

Well my daddy come on the 0hio 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"
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
YOUNGSTOWN

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



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