I never knew how young I was, to live became a soldier
and had my life planned half for me this way
I never knew how old I was for winters getting colder
and no one's getting rich on what they hate
Oh, and maybe I should be some mad at someone
but no
I guess that's 'cause I'm too busy thinking about
the folks back home
Oh I'll send them all a photograph
to show I'm still alive
and dressed in that
grand old uniform of mine
I can't think what I learned today
to something with the bayonet
sticking them in dummies filled with hate
Yes they teach the art of killing
until you sure get good at it
but dummies never had too much to say
Oh, and yes, there are those questions
I could ask them quite a lot
like "Sergeant do you think that I was cut out for this job?"
But I've left it far too late
for asking questions now that I'm
dressed in that
grand old uniform of mine
I never knew how young I was, to live became a soldier
and I can hardly wasting more this time
Now someone said my name's come up
And I'll be going over
Soon I'll have to bid my friends goodbye
If only everyone from home
would write me every day
When I return I can kid myself
'bout never been nowhere
Oh and that's the day I'll celebrate
and watch the flames grow high
from that
grand old uniform of mine
from that
grand old uniform of mine
and had my life planned half for me this way
I never knew how old I was for winters getting colder
and no one's getting rich on what they hate
Oh, and maybe I should be some mad at someone
but no
I guess that's 'cause I'm too busy thinking about
the folks back home
Oh I'll send them all a photograph
to show I'm still alive
and dressed in that
grand old uniform of mine
I can't think what I learned today
to something with the bayonet
sticking them in dummies filled with hate
Yes they teach the art of killing
until you sure get good at it
but dummies never had too much to say
Oh, and yes, there are those questions
I could ask them quite a lot
like "Sergeant do you think that I was cut out for this job?"
But I've left it far too late
for asking questions now that I'm
dressed in that
grand old uniform of mine
I never knew how young I was, to live became a soldier
and I can hardly wasting more this time
Now someone said my name's come up
And I'll be going over
Soon I'll have to bid my friends goodbye
If only everyone from home
would write me every day
When I return I can kid myself
'bout never been nowhere
Oh and that's the day I'll celebrate
and watch the flames grow high
from that
grand old uniform of mine
from that
grand old uniform of mine
envoyé par Gerald Sables - 20/4/2015 - 18:07
Siccome non si trova traccia in rete del testo di questa canzone che il buon Gerald Sables non ci aveva a suo tempo inviato, ho provato a trascriverla all'ascolto ma c'è una parola di cui non sono sicuro (e neanche del primo verso). Se qualcuno vuole cimentarsi...
Lorenzo - 30/12/2019 - 00:11
Il testo come lo hai trascritto è correttissimo (anche il primo verso, magari mettendoci una virgola). La parola di cui non eri sicuro è bid "dire, augurare": to bid goodbye, to bid adieu "dire addio". E' un'espressione molto elegante.
Riccardo Venturi - 30/12/2019 - 05:28
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A superb antiwar song written at the time of the Vietnam war
Appearing on Jonathan first self titled album on the Parlophone label