Come all ye friends and workers
I'll tell a tale to you
Of how we built the union
You call the NMU
We fought the goons and gun-thugs
Around the ocean shores
I guess I got my head caved in
A dozen times a more
All you fonies (bound to lose)
All you fonies (bound to lose)
All you fonies bound to lose, lose, lose
You had a bony setup
You called the SIU
We had a ratty ship and a crummy bunk
With roaches in our stew
We fought against the weather
And the stooges too
To win a clean bunk and mess hall
For newly comes like you
All you fonies (bound to lose)
All you fonies (bound to lose)
All you fonies bound to lose, lose, lose
All you fonies bound to lose, lose, lose
For me to try to change this whole big mess around by myself
I wouldn't last longer than a snowball in hell
But there's a hundred thousand of me now
And we fought like hell to get here
So you fight like hell to keep what we shed blood to earn
For eight hours a day and overtime pay
We battled it out with you big shot men
We've seen times that looked pretty dark
Until we brought the union in
All you fonies (bound to lose)
All you fonies (bound to lose)
All you fonies bound to lose, lose, lose
All you fonies (bound to lose)
All you fonies (bound to lose)
All you fonies bound to lose, lose, lose
All you fonies bound to lose, lose, lose
All you fonies bound to lose, lose, lose (yeah!)
I'll tell a tale to you
Of how we built the union
You call the NMU
We fought the goons and gun-thugs
Around the ocean shores
I guess I got my head caved in
A dozen times a more
All you fonies (bound to lose)
All you fonies (bound to lose)
All you fonies bound to lose, lose, lose
You had a bony setup
You called the SIU
We had a ratty ship and a crummy bunk
With roaches in our stew
We fought against the weather
And the stooges too
To win a clean bunk and mess hall
For newly comes like you
All you fonies (bound to lose)
All you fonies (bound to lose)
All you fonies bound to lose, lose, lose
All you fonies bound to lose, lose, lose
For me to try to change this whole big mess around by myself
I wouldn't last longer than a snowball in hell
But there's a hundred thousand of me now
And we fought like hell to get here
So you fight like hell to keep what we shed blood to earn
For eight hours a day and overtime pay
We battled it out with you big shot men
We've seen times that looked pretty dark
Until we brought the union in
All you fonies (bound to lose)
All you fonies (bound to lose)
All you fonies bound to lose, lose, lose
All you fonies (bound to lose)
All you fonies (bound to lose)
All you fonies bound to lose, lose, lose
All you fonies bound to lose, lose, lose
All you fonies bound to lose, lose, lose (yeah!)
envoyé par dq82 - 13/10/2022 - 09:17
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This Machine Still Kills Fascists
Feat. Woody Guthrie
“This machine kills fascists” era la leggendaria scritta che campeggiava sulla chitarra di Woody Guthrie, uno dei padri della canzone folk statunitense, ed ora è anche il titolo (con l'aggiunta della parola 'still', ancora) del loro nuovo disco. Un album in cui la band – orfana del cantante Al Barr, alle prese con problemi familiari - ha staccato la spina dalla presa elettrica scegliendo, per la prima volta, di viaggiare sul binario acustico. Un viaggio il loro che è temporale poiché con il beneplacito e il supporto di Nora Guthrie, figlia di Woody, il gruppo ha avuto accesso ad alcuni testi inediti dell'illustre genitore che avevano bisogno di essere messi in musica; ma anche fisico, infatti per registrare “This machine still kills fascists” i Dropkick Murphys si sono spostati dal Massachusetts fino allo stato natale di Guthrie, l'Oklahoma.
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