27 fevereiro 2007

Irlanda, Setembro de 1990

(Christy Moore)

At the early age of thirty-eight Me mother said 'Go West!'

'Get up, ' says she. 'and get a job'. Says I, 'I'll do my best'
I pulled on me Wellingtons to march to Kiltimagh
But I took a wrong turn in Charlestown and ended up in Knock

Oh once this quiet crossroads was a place of gentle prayer
Where Catholics got indulgent once or twice a year.
You could buy a pair of rosary beads or get your candles blessed
If you had a guilty conscience you could get it off your chest.

Then came the priest form Partry father Horan was his name
And since he's been appointed Knock has never been the same.
'Begod,' says Jem, 'tis eighty years since Mary was adout.'
'Tis time for another miracle.' and he blew the candle out.

From Fatima to Bethlehem, from Lourdes to Kiltimagh,
There's never been a miracle like the airport up in Knock

To establish terra firma he draw up a ten year plan
And started running dances around 1961.
He built a fantabulous church, Go h-álainn, on the holy ground
And once he had a focal point he started to expand

Chip shops and Bed and Breakfasts sprung up over night.
Once a place for quiet retreats now a holy sight.
All sorts of fancy restaurants for every race and creed
Where black and white and yellow pilgrims all could get a feed

The stalls once under canvas became religious supermarts
With such a range o' godly goods, they had top twenty charts.
While the airport opposition was destroyed by James' trump card.
For centenary celebrations he got John Paul the twenty-third

From Fatima to Bethlehem, from Lourdes to Kiltimagh,
There's never been a miracle like the airport up in Knock

'We had the Blessed virgin here,' Bold Jamesie did declare,
'And Pope John Paul the twenty-third appeared just over there.'
'Now do you mean to tell me', he said in total shock,
'That I am not entitled to an airport here in Knock.'

TD's were lobbied and harassed with talk of promised votes
And people who'd been loyal for years now spoke of changing coats.
Eternal damnation was threatened on the flock
Who said it was abortive building airports up in Knock

Now everyone is happy the miracle is complete.
Father Horan's got his runway, it's eighteen thousand feet
All sorts of planes could land there, of that there's little doubt,
handy for the George Bush to keep knock Gadaffi out.

From Fatima to Bethlehem, from Lourdes to Kiltimagh,
There's never been a miracle like the airport up in Knock

Did NATO donate, me boys, did NATO donate the dough?
Did NATO donate, me Girls, did NATO donate the dough?
Did NATO donate the dough, the dough, did NATO donate the dough?
Eighteen thousand feet of runway is an awful long way to go.

(Foster & Allen - popular Irish folk duo)
(TDs - Teachtarai Dail, Members of the Irish Parliament)

Amor, que fizemos nós a esta "tape"? Mais uma "missing in action". Deve ter ido parar ao "bruscar"...

9 comentários:

Maria disse...

Opá, tens de encontrar essa k7!

A letra é espectacular!

Anónimo disse...

A quem é que a emprestaste?
;) A.

Nanny disse...

Eu andava desesperada com o desaparecimento da minha tape dos Enigma (MCMXC), um dia passei-me fui à net e comprei em cd o Trilogy (fiquei logo com aquele e mais 2, toma!).

Agora por causa de me lembrares enfiei os auscultadores e estou a ouvi-los... hehehe

Há músicas que nos marcam e que marcam um período da nossa vida... estas para mim são imortais! Só nunca pus no meu cantinho porque os códigos não funcionam...

Beijoca da gat

Uxka disse...

o homem é assim um cruzamento de Zeca e Sérgio, um baladeirp sempre com o dedo na ferida.


Já tentaste o Radio Blog?

Beijos às meninas e tu mais tarde "falamos".

Maria disse...

Desejo-te um óptimo fim-de-semana!

muitos beijinhos

Maria disse...

Uxkinha, where are you?

Erecteu disse...

Cansei de procurar e não ta encontrei

Uxka disse...

Hi Mary e nobre Erecteu... estou por aqui a voar baixinho, mas a voar.

Nanny disse...

Knock Knock

Onde andas????

Deixei-te um desafio no meu cantito, vá lá, não me deixes mal!

Beijocas da gata