The Corries все тексты (слова) песен, переводы, видео, клипы

Oh, the (C)year was seventeen (G)seventy-(C)eight
How I wish I (F)was in (C)Sherbrooke (G)now
A (C)letter of (G)marque came (C)from the king
To the scummiest vessel I'd (G)ever (F)seen

Chorus (Repeat after each verse)
(G)God (C)damn them all, I was (F)told,
We'd (C)cruise the (F)seas for A(C)merican (F)gold

Cam' ye by Athol, lad wi' the philabeg,
Down by the Tummel, or banks of the Garry?
Saw ye the lads, wi' their bonnets an' white cockades,
Leaving their mountains to follow Prince Charlie.
Follow thee, follow thee, wha wadna follow thee?
Long has thou lov'd an' trusted us fairly!
Charlie, Charlie, wha wadna follow thee?
King o' the Highland hearts, bonnie Charlie.

CORRIE DOON

D Bm D
Coorie doon, Coorie doon, Coorie doon, my darling
A D
Coorie doon a day
D Bm D
Coorie doon, Coorie doon, Coorie doon, my darling

As I cam in by Auchendoun
Just a wee bit fae the toon
Tae the Hielands I was bound
Tae view the Haughs o' Cromdale
I met a man in tartan trews
Speired at him what was the news
Quo' he, "The Hieland army rues
That e'er we cam to Cromdale"

My Harry was a gallant blade
Fou dainty straid he on the plain
Noo he's banished far awa'
And oh he'll no' come back again

Oh for him back again
Oh for him back again
I wud gi' a' Knockhaspie's land

Good evening all me jolly lads I'm glad to see you're well
If you'll gather all around me now the story I will tell
For I've got a situation and begorah and begob
I can whisper I've the weekly wage of nineteen bob
'Tis tvelwe months come October since I left me native home
After helping in Killarney, boys, to bring the harvest down
But now I wear a geansai and around me waist a belt
I'm the gaffer of the squad that makes the hot asphalt

SMILE IN YOUR SLEEP
(Jim McLean)

CHO: Hush, hush, time to be sleeping
Hush, hush, dreams come a-creeping
Dreams of peace and of freedom
So smile in your sleep, bonny baby

I will go, I will go,
When the fightin' is over,
To the land of McLeod
That I left to be a soldier.
I will go, I will go.

When the king's son came along
He called us a' together,

Cope sent a challenge frae Dunbar,
Sayin "Charlie meet me an' ye daur;
An' I'll learn ye the airt o' war,
If ye'll meet me in the morning.

Charlie looked the letter upon,
He drew his sword and scabbard from,
Follow me, my merry men,

The dour, grim fighting which took place almost constantly in the Scottish Borders for centuries is recalled in this song by the Borders poet James Hogg (also known as the "Ettrick Shepherd"). Many of the surnames which appear in this song were well known in the Borders.

Lock the door, Lariston, lion of Liddesdale,
Lock the door, Lariston, Lowther comes on.
The Armstrongs are flying, the widows are crying,
Castletown is burning and Oliver is gone!
Lock the door, Lariston, high on the weather gleam,
See how the Saxon plumes they bob on the sky.

I danced in the morning when the world was begun
And I danced in the moon and the stars and the sun
I came down from heaven and I danced on the earth
At Bethlehem I had my birth
Dance, then, wherever you may be
I am the lord of the dance, said he
I lead you all, wherever you may be
I lead you all in the dance, said he

Oh cruel is the snow that sweeps Glencoe
And covers the grave o' Donald
And cruel was the foe that raped Glencoe
And murdered the house o' MacDonald
(chorus)

They came through the blizzard, we offered them heat
A roof ower their heads, dry shoes for their feet

Come all you gallant fishermen that plough the stormy sea,
The whole year round on the fishing grounds
On the Northern Minch and the Norway Deeps,
On the banks and knolls of the North Sea Holes
Where the herring shoals are found.

It's there you'll find the Norfolk boys and the lads from Peterhead,
There's Buckie chiels and men from Shields,

Fareweel to a' our Scotish fame,
Fareweel our ancient glory;
Fareweel ev'n to the Scotish name,
Sae fam'd in martial story!
Now Sark rins o'er the Solway sands,
An' Tweed rins to the ocean,
To mark where England's province stands –
Such a Parcel O'Rogues in a nation!

Шотландская народная песня о битве 1603 г в ущелье Фруин (Glen Fruin). Двое горцев отстали от своих во время набега МакГрегоров за скотом и были убиты Колхаунами. Горские кланы под предводительством МакГрегоров отправились мстить. Лоулендеры тоже собрали превосходящие силы, чтобы покончить с налетчиками, и вышли навстречу горцам - но не смогли воспользоваться преимуществом в кавалерии в теснине, не выстояли перед атакой горских мечников и были разбиты. Король Яков VI-й Шотландии и I-й Англии Стюарт объявил клан МакГрегоров вне закона.

The young McGregor o Glen Strae wi eighty o his men
Upon the Argyll sleekit word pit Finla's glen a flame.
The burning theiving hieland rant drove-a the beast awa
And left ahint twa dirkit men to perish in the snaw.

By Fallisdall the letter come frae black Dumbarton toon

O wither away my bonnie May (which direction) Sae late an' sae far in the gloamin' (so far in the dusk) The mist gather grey o'er moorland and brae (hill) O wither sae far are ye roamin'?

Chorus:

O ye'll tak the high road an' I'll tak the low I'll be in Scotland afore ye For me and my true love will never meet again By the bonnie bonnie banks o' Loch Lomond

I trusted my ain love last night in the broom (own) (bush) My Donald wha' loves me sae dearly For the morrow he will march for Edinburgh toon (town) Tae fecht for his King and Prince Charlie (to fight)

Well, he was a gentleman soldier, as a sentry he did stand,
He saluted a fair maid by a waving of his hand -
So boldly then he kissed her and he passed it off as a joke -
He drilled her up in the sentry box, wrapped up in a soldier's cloak!

Chorus:
And the drums they go with a rata ta tat
And the fifes they loudly play

At the age of nineteen, I was digging the land
With me brogues on me feet and me spade in me hand.
Well says I to meself, 'What a pity to see
Such a fine Kerry couldn't turf in Tralee.'

With your Kerry-I-Ah, fa lal deral lay,
Kerry-I-Ah, fa lal deral lay.

Chorus:
Come now, gather now, here where the flowers grow,
White is the blossom as the snow on the ben,
Hear now, freedom's call, we'll make a solemn vow,
Now by the Roses of Prince Charlie.

Fight again at Bannockburn yer battle axe tae wield,
Fight wi' yer grandsires at Flodden's bloody field,

Come all ye true-born Glasgow boys
And listen to my song
I'm going to speak of Hogmanay
It won't detain you long

I've made this little tune for you
I've laid it on my whistle
And I think the name I'll give to it

Robert Burns,

THE BATTLE OF SHERIFF-MUIR.

“O cam ye here the fight to shun,
Or herd the sheep wi’ me, man?
Or were ye at the Sherra-muir,
And did the battle see, man?”

Chorus:
Speed bonnie boat like a bird on the wing,
Onward, the sailors cry.
Carry the lad that's born to be king
Over the sea to Skye.

Loud the winds howl, loud the waves roar,
Thunderclaps rend the air,

As I was walking all alane,
I heard twa corbies making a mane;
The tane unto the t'other say,
‘Where sall we gang and dine to-day?’

‘In behint yon auld fail dyke,
I wot there lies a new slain knight;
And naebody kens that he lies there,

Ye Jacobites by name lend an ear, lend an ear
Ye Jacobites by name lend an ear
Ye Jacobites by name your faults I will proclaim
Your doctrines I must blame, you shall hear.

What is right and what is wrong by the law, by the law
What is right and what is wrong by the law
What is right and what is wrong, a short sword and a long