some mother´s son

[bolanita]

Some mother’s son lies in a field
Someone has killed some mother’s son today
Head blown up by some soldier’s gun
While all the mothers stand and wait
Some mother’s son ain’t coming home today
Some mothers son ain’t got no grave

Two soldiers fighting in a trench
One soldier glances up to see the sun
And dreams of games he played when he was young
And then his friend calls out his name
It stops his dream and as he turns his head
A second later he is dead

Some mother’s son lies in a field
Back home they put his picture in a frame
But all dead soldiers look the same
While all the parents stand and wait
To meet their children coming home from school
Some mother’s son is lying dead

Somewhere someone is crying
Someone is trying to be so brave
But still the world keeps turning
Though all the children have gone away

Some mother’s son lies in a field
But in his mother’s eyes he looks the same
As on the day he went away

They put his picture on the wall
They put flowers in the picture frame
Some mothers memory remains




escarpias a modo de pelos
hay canciones en "arthur" descomunales

[Gama Cash]

Oh it must seem so romantic
When the fighting's over there
And youre passing round the shamrock
And youre all filled up with tears
"For the love of dear old ireland"
That youve never even seen
You throw in 20 dollars, And sing "wearing of the green"

Each dollar a bullet
Each victim someone's son
And americans kill irishmen
as surely as if they fired the gun

Now youve never stood on belfast's streets, And heard the bombs explode
Or hid beneath the blankets
When theres riots down the road
No youve never had your best friend die
Or lost a favorite son
But you'll stand there and tell us
Just what we're doing wrong

Each false word a bullet
Each victim someone's son
And englishmen kill irishmen
As surely as if they fired the gun

From the minute that youre born
Youre told to hate the other side
"Theyre not like us, theyre not the same
We know because we're right"
But cant you see we're all the same
There is no right and wrong
Why cant we stop and realise
We've hated too much, too long

Each old lie a bullet
Each victim someones son
And irishmen kill irishmen
as surely as if they fired the gun

How can you convince yourself
That what you do is right?
When people are dying there
Night after night
Dont you ever wonder why it still goes on?
The hopes and fears and all the tears are
Buried in the ground, Buried in your ground

Each false word a bullet
Each victim someone's son
And careless talk kills irishmen
As surely, as if words fired the gun

Well its lasted for so long now
And so many have died
Its such a part of my own life
Though it leaves me mystified
How people so intelligent, friendly kind and brave
Will throw themselves so willingly
Into an open grave

Each old lie a bullet
Each victim someone's son
And ignorance kills irishmen
As surely, as if we all fired the gun


Me lo ha recordado.

[bolanita]

mi ignorancia me impide reconocer esa canción

[Gama Cash]

"Each dollar a bulllet" Stiff Little Fingers (Flags and Emblems, 1994)