Christy Moore - This Is The Day (2001) by Christy Moore (보컬) on maniadb.com

This is the day the fisherman likes
And so do I
When the rain puts a shine on the chestnut spikes
Hear the curlews cry
The nightingale sings her best
We'll drink a pint in hamiltons rest
And the girl I love wore a muslin dress
The fisherman dream of the sun in the west
And so do I
And so do I

Now I can see
Since the girl I love dearly
Has cast her loving spell on me

This is the day the cuckoo likes
And so do I
When the hills fall down in different shapes
And the swallows fly
To a hidden beach where boats can't go
Mountain rivers overflow
I hear the squealin' of the seagulls
As off home they go
And so do I
And so do I

Now I can see
Since the girl I love dearly
Has cast her loving spell on me

I'll cross the seven oceans
Forever more I'll wander
'Till she has cast her loving spell on me

This is the day the fisherman likes
And so do I
When the rain puts a shine on the chestnut spikes
Hear the curlews cry
The nightingale sings her best
We'll drink a pint in hamiltons rest
And the girl I love wore a muslin dress
The fishermen dream of the sum in the west
And so do I
And so do I

And so do I
And so do I

The good ship Granma lies at anchor in the harbour
Waiting for the evening tide to rise and bring high water.
Bound for Cuba she must go across the Gulf of
Mexico and The Caribbean Ocean
She's carrying a human cargo 83 good companeros
Each one burning with determination to be free

CHORUS

Against Batista, The Fidelistas, courage was their armour As they fought at Fidel's side with Che Guevara.

Five days out from Mexico these Companeros
Landed on the Cuban beach Los Colarados
Fidel said this year will see our country and our people free Or else we will be martyrs
We've only guns enough for 20 the enemy has arms a plenty
Meet him and defeat him and he'll keep us well supplied

Chorus

Five weeks later in the Canyon De La Rio
Fidels army was reduced to 18 Companeros
Hungry, weak and unafraid, learning revolutions trade in the high Sierra Maestre
Where the mountain winds did blow bearing seeds to sprout and sow
New crops in Cuban soil that marked the death of slavery

Chorus

Companeros, tu valaderos
Courage was their armour as they fought at Fidel's side with Che Guevara

They made their way across the peak of El Torquino
Joined by bands of volunteers and the men from Santiago
They faced Batista's tanks and trains,drove them back across the plains,from the high Sierra Maestre
They drove the gangsters from Los Vios straight across the Cordileros
Santa Barbra fell to Che Guevara and was free.
The fire lit on that Cuban beach by Fidel Castro
Still shines all the way to Terra del Fuego
Sparks are blown upon the breeze, people rise from off their knees when they see the night is burning.
It blazes up in Venezuela, Bolivia and Guatamala
Lights the road that we must go in order to be free.....

There was a woman and she lived on her own,
Slaved on her own and skivvied on her own,
She'd two little boys and two little girls --
She lived all alone with her husband.

He was a hunk of a man
A chunk of a man and a drunk of a man,
A hunk of a drunken skunk of a man
Such a boozy, bruising, bully of a husband.

For when he'd come home drunk at night,
He'd thrash her black and thrash her white;
Thrashed her to within an inch of her life,
And snored all night like a big drunken husband.

One night she gathered her tears all round her shame
Covered up the bruise and cried with the pain,
You'll not do that ever again,
I'll not live anymore with a drunk of a husband.

And that night as he lay drunk in bed,
The strangest thought came to her head,
She took the needle and the thread,
And went straight in to her sleeping husband.

She started to stitch with a girlish thrill
With a woman's eye and a seamstress' skill,
She bibbed and tucked with an iron will,
A she stitched all round her sleeping husband.

The top sheet, the bottom sheet, too,
The blanket stitched to the mattress through,
She bibbed and tucked the whole night through
Waiting for the dawn and her husband.

Solo (hyup!)

He awoke with a pain in his head,
He found that he could not move in bed,
Sweet God in Heaven, have I lost me legs!
She just sat and smiled at her husband.

In her hand she held the frying pan
With a flutter in her heart she flew at him;
He could not move he cried, God damn!
Don't you swear at me ya dirty husband."

She beat him black, she beat him blue,
With the frying pan and the colander too,
With the rolling pin a stroke or two
Such a battered and repenting husband.

"If you ever come home drunk again,
I'll stitch you up and sew you in,
Then I'll pack my bag and I'll be gone,
I'll not live with a drunk of a husband."

Isn't it true what a wife can do
With a needle, thread and a stitch or two?
He's wiped his slate and his boozin's through
She don't live anymore with a drunken husband.


recorded by Mike Waterson, Martin Carthy, Max Hole
filename( STICTIME
BR