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letras de
Judy Collins
THE RISING OF THE MOON
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Letra y Significado de
THE RISING OF THE MOON,
Judy Collins
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Letra
Oh no! Esta misteriosa letra aun no encontro explicación. Si estas acá, podes ser la primer persona que aporte el significado de esta canción. No es necesario registrarse, puede ser anonimo. Hace clic en el botón verde y envianos tu opinión.
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Ah then tell me sean o'farrell
tell me why you're hurrying so
hush my boy oh hush and listen
and his eyes were all aglow
i bear orders from the captain
get you ready quick and soon
for the pikes must be together
at the rising of the moon
Ah then tell me sean o'farrell
where the gatherin' is to be
in the old spot by the river
right well known to you and me
one thing more for signal token
whistle up the marchin' tune
with your sword upon your shoulder
at the rising of the moon
Rumors passed along the valley
like a banshee's lonely croon
and a thousand blades were flashin'
at the rising of the moon
All along the singing river
that dark mass of men were seen
far above their shining weapons
hung their own immortal green
death to every foe and traitor
foreign strike the marchin' tune
and hurrah me boys for ireland
tis the rising of the moon
Well, they fought for poor old ireland
and full bitter was their fate
oh what glorious pride and sorrow
fill the name of ninety-eight
yet thank god while hearts are beating
foreign manhood's burnin' noon,
we shall follow in their footsteps
at the rising of the moon.
Death to every foe and traitor
foreign, strike the marchin' tune
and hurrah me boys for freedom
tis the rising,
tis the rising of the moon
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Ah then tell me sean o'farrell tell me why you're hurrying so hush my boy oh hush and listen and his eyes were all aglow i bear orders from the captain get you ready quick and soon for the pikes must be together at the rising of the moon Ah then tell me sean o'farrell where the gatherin' is to be in the old spot by the river right well known to you and me one thing more for signal token whistle up the marchin' tune with your sword upon your shoulder at the rising of the moon Rumors passed along the valley like a banshee's lonely croon and a thousand blades were flashin' at the rising of the moon All along the singing river that dark mass of men were seen far above their shining weapons hung their own immortal green death to every foe and traitor foreign strike the marchin' tune and hurrah me boys for ireland tis the rising of the moon Well, they fought for poor old ireland and full bitter was their fate oh what glorious pride and sorrow fill the name of ninety-eight yet thank god while hearts are beating foreign manhood's burnin' noon, we shall follow in their footsteps at the rising of the moon. Death to every foe and traitor foreign, strike the marchin' tune and hurrah me boys for freedom tis the rising, tis the rising of the moon
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