What is it about you, makes me feel this way?
When I'm leaving you, when I'm coming home
I'm lost for words to say
And I know your faults and failures
And the troubles that you've been through
But it's more about what happens now
And what were coming to.
And the echo from the green hills
Runs through her city streets
And the sun that shines on England
Well it lifts the heart in me.
What is it about you, that took men into war?
Rows and rows of crosses: who remembers why what for?
The corners of these foreign fields
The dust in them concealed
Out of sight but not out of mind
Don't you know that England feels?
And the echo from the green hills
Runs through the city streets
The rain that falls on England
Well it washes care from me.
England, oh England
England, oh England
England, oh England
Don't make this out a battle hymn or a song of victory
It's just a way to try to say what England means to me
And our accents and our colours change
From the city to the farmland
From the moorland to the mountain
From the river to the sea.
And the echo from the green hills
Runs through the city streets
The rain that falls on England
Well it washes care from me.
England, oh England
England, oh England
England, oh England
From the rolling road to the winding lane
From the field to factory
From summer's haze to winter's glaze
And all the colours in between
It's a stillness in the evening
It's the heartbeat that I'm feeling
Fron Cornwall to Northumberland
From the Pennines to the sea.
And the echo from the green hills
Runs through the city streets
The rain that falls on England
Well it washes care from me
England, oh England
England, oh England
England, oh England
When I'm leaving you, when I'm coming home
I'm lost for words to say
And I know your faults and failures
And the troubles that you've been through
But it's more about what happens now
And what were coming to.
And the echo from the green hills
Runs through her city streets
And the sun that shines on England
Well it lifts the heart in me.
What is it about you, that took men into war?
Rows and rows of crosses: who remembers why what for?
The corners of these foreign fields
The dust in them concealed
Out of sight but not out of mind
Don't you know that England feels?
And the echo from the green hills
Runs through the city streets
The rain that falls on England
Well it washes care from me.
England, oh England
England, oh England
England, oh England
Don't make this out a battle hymn or a song of victory
It's just a way to try to say what England means to me
And our accents and our colours change
From the city to the farmland
From the moorland to the mountain
From the river to the sea.
And the echo from the green hills
Runs through the city streets
The rain that falls on England
Well it washes care from me.
England, oh England
England, oh England
England, oh England
From the rolling road to the winding lane
From the field to factory
From summer's haze to winter's glaze
And all the colours in between
It's a stillness in the evening
It's the heartbeat that I'm feeling
Fron Cornwall to Northumberland
From the Pennines to the sea.
And the echo from the green hills
Runs through the city streets
The rain that falls on England
Well it washes care from me
England, oh England
England, oh England
England, oh England
Contributed by Bernart Bartleby - 2017/1/10 - 23:24
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Parole e musica di Ralph McTell
Un singolo poi inserito nell'album “Water Of Dreams” del 1982
A detta dello stesso autore questo brano voleva essere una proposta per un nuovo inno nazionale, ma il tentativo purtroppo si spense sulle coste delle Falklands/Malvinas...:
“England was my attempt to write almost a new national anthem. I still think we need a song that reflects our new diversity and more of a belief in a spiritual heart beat to our country. This was very nearly a hit but I withdrew support for the song when the Falklands war took place. The idea of selling records on the backs of dead soldiers and jingoistic reactions flew in the face of the third verse of the song and was the direct opposite of my intention when writing it. It has now found its way back into my repertoire.”
A mio avviso, meno bella di England 1914 - di cui “England” potrebbe quasi intendersi come “reprise” - e anche di un altro brano che mi è venuto in mente ascoltandola: Song for Ireland di Dick Gaughan... Forse perchè è sempre meglio non provare a scrivere inni nazionali, pur con le migliori intenzioni.