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letras de
The Pogues
STREETS OF SORROW/BIRMINGHAM SIX
0 opinión
Letra y Significado de
STREETS OF SORROW/BIRMINGHAM SIX,
The Pogues
Significados y Opiniones (
0
)
Letra
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Envia tu opinión de STREETS OF SORROW/BIRMINGHAM SIX
Envia tu opinión de STREETS OF SORROW/BIRMINGHAM SIX
Oh farewell you streets of sorrow
and farewell you streets of pain
i'll not return to feel more sorrow
nor to see more young men slain
through the last six years i've lived through terror
and in the darkened streets the pain
oh how i long to find some solace
in my mind i curse the strain
So farewell you streets of sorrow
and farewell you streets of pain
no i'll not return to feel more sorrow
nor to see more young men slain
There were six men in birmingham
in guildford there's four
that were picked up and tortured
and framed by the law
and the filth got promotion
but they're still doing time
for being irish in the wrong place
and at the wrong time
in ireland they'll put you away in the maze
in england they'll keep you for seven long days
god help you if ever you're caught on these shores
the coppers need someone
and they walk through that door
You'll be counting years
first five, then ten
growing old in a lonely hell
round the yard and the stinking cell
from wall to wall, and back again
A curse on the judges, the coppers and screws
who tortured the innocent, wrongly accused
for the price of promotion
and justice to sell
may the judged by their judges when they rot down in hell
May the whores of the empire lie awake in their beds
and sweat as they count out the sins on their heads
while over in ireland eight more men lie dead
kicked down and shot in the back of the head
Corregir Letra
Corregir Letra
Oh farewell you streets of sorrow and farewell you streets of pain i'll not return to feel more sorrow nor to see more young men slain through the last six years i've lived through terror and in the darkened streets the pain oh how i long to find some solace in my mind i curse the strain So farewell you streets of sorrow and farewell you streets of pain no i'll not return to feel more sorrow nor to see more young men slain There were six men in birmingham in guildford there's four that were picked up and tortured and framed by the law and the filth got promotion but they're still doing time for being irish in the wrong place and at the wrong time in ireland they'll put you away in the maze in england they'll keep you for seven long days god help you if ever you're caught on these shores the coppers need someone and they walk through that door You'll be counting years first five, then ten growing old in a lonely hell round the yard and the stinking cell from wall to wall, and back again A curse on the judges, the coppers and screws who tortured the innocent, wrongly accused for the price of promotion and justice to sell may the judged by their judges when they rot down in hell May the whores of the empire lie awake in their beds and sweat as they count out the sins on their heads while over in ireland eight more men lie dead kicked down and shot in the back of the head
Enviar Letra
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