Исполнитель: | Christy Moore (English) |
Пользователь: | malcolmgeorgewalker |
Длительность: | 130 секунд |
Начальная пауза: | 12 секунд |
Названия аккордов: | Не установлено |
Матерная: | |
Комментарии к подбору: |
I am submitting this in memory of my very dear friend and beautiful singer of ballads Rory McNally who sadly passed away 19/03/2016. Every time I sing or hear this song I think of him. RIP Rory, Mal ( the English Bollicks) |
Farewell To Pripyat (Open chords till Verse 3) or can capo 3 throughout
1. D It was a Friday in April G 1986,
The A day that the nightmare be D gan,
When the dust it rained down on our G buildings and streets,
And A entered our bedrooms at D noon,
Touched the G grass and the trees, D bicycles, cars,
Beds books and picture A frames too,
G We stood around, D helpless, confused,
A Nobody knew what to D do.
2. D At two o’clock on Sunday the G buses arrived,
A A fleet of a thousand or D more,
We were ordered to G be on our way,
A Not knowing what lay in D store,
G Some of our citizens D fled in dismay,
And looked for a good place to A hide,
G Four o’clock came and the D last bus pulled out,
A T’was the day our lovely town D died.
Chorus
D And the shirts sheets and handkerchiefs G crack in the wind,
On the A window ledge the withering D plants,
And the Ladas and Volga’s are G parked by the door,
A And the bike’s in its usual D stance.
G Our evergreen trees lie D withered and drooped,
They’ve poisoned our fertile A land,
The G streets speak a deafening D silence,
… A Nothing stirs but the D sand.
CHANGE TO CAPO 1:
3. A D visit back home is so G eerie today,
A A modern Pompeii on D view,
To see all the old shops and the G Forest Hotel,
And the A Promyet Cinema D too.
The me G mentos we gathered were D all left behind,
Our Photos, letters and A cards,
The G toys of our children un D touchable now,
Toy A soldiers left standing on D guard.
4. D So fare thee well Pripyat, my G home and my soul,
Your A sorrow can know no D relief,
D A terrifying glimpse of the G future you show,
Your A children all scattered like D geese,
The G clothes line still sways but the D owners long gone,
As the nomadic era A returns,
The G question in black and white blurred into grey,
The A answer is too easy to D learn.
CHORUS
D And the shirts sheets and handkerchiefs G crack in the wind,
On the A window ledge the withering D plants,
And the Ladas and Volga’s are G parked by the door,
A And the bike’s in its usual D stance.
G Our evergreen trees lie D withered and drooped,
They’ve poisoned our fertile A land,
The G streets speak a deafening D silence,
… A Nothing stirs but the D sand.
REPEAT Chorus
Written by Tim Dennehy, sang by Christy Moore