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альбомы: Sophisticated Beggar
Legend
автор:
Roy Harper
альбомы: Sophisticated Beggar
рейтинг: ★★★★★ / 5 / 1005 просмотров
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Far across the ocean In the land of look and see There once was a time For you and meWhere the winds blow sweetly And the easy seas flow still And where the barefoot dream of life Can laugh and cry it's fillWhere slot machine confusion And the plastic universe Are objects of amusement In the fiction of their curseAnd where the crazy whiteman And his teargas happiness Lies dead and long since buried By his own fantastic messFor I hate the whiteman And his plastic excuse For I hate the whiteman And the man who turned him loose...And the reins of coloured thunder Of the stallion of the dawn Ride the coalfire morning On the beach where all is bornWhere the emperor of meaning Is burning up his fort And sits to warm his toes around A fire made up of useless thoughtsAnd when the children tempt him With the riddles of their trance He flings the flames of solstice Casting laughs into their danceAnd where the crazy whiteman In the desert of his bones Lies as bleached as the paradise He likes to think he ownsAnd I hate the whiteman In his evergreen excuse Oh I hate the whiteman And the man who turned him loose...And far across the reaches Of the drifting yellow sands The living carpet wilderness Forever joins it's handsWith heaven hell's attainment In a surging crest of fire Where more than all is thrown upon The ever lasting pyreAnd through the countless canticles Of Jason's charcoal fleece Are sung the songs of nothing In the timeless masterpieceAnd there stood in the middle Guess who? It's the everlasting burst Built by god's very own whiteman As he tries to rule the dustAnd I hate the whiteman In his doctrinaire refuse Oh I hate the whiteman And the man who turned you all loose...And the bowels of his city Have been locked into a safe Where the spew stains on the sidewalks Are defenders of his faithWhile back inside his kitchen The bowler hatted, long haired saint Cleans with soap and water But it's really just white paint While his gorgon headed scandal sheet Presents its daily bite To give their righteous news-believers Drugs to keep them whiteWhile outside in the whitewash Where the guns are always, always right A shooting star has summoned Deaths dark angel from its nightAnd I hate the whiteman And his evergreen excuse Oh I hate the whiteman And the man who turned you all loose And the man who turned him loose...
Это интересно:Рой Харпер родился 12 июня 1941 года в Манчестере. Его мать умерла через месяц после родов, и его воспитанием занималась в основном мачеха. С самого детства Рой интересовался литературой (в основном поэзией) и музыкой. Сначала он был большим поклонником блюза, особенно Lead Belly и Big Bill Broonzy, а также исполнителей фольклора, типа Woody Guthrie.... продолжение
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