Ambiente

[Dynamike]

Da fehlt doch noch was... genau: Musik!
Wie wär's denn mit ein bisschen Irish Folk Music?

THE PUB WITH NO BEER

It's lonesome away from your kindred and all
By the camp fire at night where the wild dingoes call,
But there's nothing so lonesome so morbid or drear
Than to stand in a bar of a pub with no beer.

Now the publican's anxious for the quota to come
There's a far away lock on the face of the bum
The maid's gone all cranky and the cook's acting queer
What a terrible place is a pub with no beer.

Then the stock-man rides up with his dry dusty throat
He breasts up to the bar, pulls a wat from his coat,
But the smile on his face quickly turns to a sneer,
When the bar man said sadly the pub's got no beer.

Ther's a dog on the 'randa-h for his master he waits
But the boss is inside drinking wine with his mates
He hurries for cover and cringes in fear
It's no place for a dog round a pub with no beer.

Old Billy the blacksmith first time in his life
Has gone home cold sober to his darling wife,
He walks in the kitchen, she says you're early me dear,
But he breaks down and tells her the pub's got no beer

[RS-USER-Cypher]

Dann doch lieber die Pogues ... !

[RS-USER-Defi Brillator]

Here you go... ;)

One summer evening drunk to hell I sat there nearly lifeless
An old man in the corner sang where the water lilies grow
And on the Jukebox Johnny sang about a thing called love.
And it‘s how are you kid and what‘s your name
And how would you bloody know ?

In blood and death `neath a screaming sky I lay down on the ground.
And the arms and legs of other men were scattered all around
Some cursed, some prayed, some prayed then cursed
Then prayed then bled some more

And the only thing that I could see
Was a pair of brown eyes that was looking at me.
But when we got back lablled parts one two three
There was no pair of brown eyes waiting for me.

And a rovin‘, a rovin‘, a rovin‘ I‘ll go for a pair of brown eyes

I looked at him, he looked at me, all I could do was hate him.
While Ray and Philomena sang of my elusive dreams.
I saw the streams, the rolling hills where his brown eyes where waitin‘
And I thought about a pair of brown eyes that waited once for me

So drunk to hell I left the place sometimes crawlin‘ sometimes walkin‘
A hungry sound came across the breeze so I gave the walls a talkin‘
And I heard the sound of long ago from the old canal
And the birds were whistling in the trees
Where the wind was gently laughing.

And a rovin‘...
And a rovin‘, a rovin‘, a rovin i‘ll go

For a pair of brown eyes,

For a pair of brown eyes

[RS-USER-Sani]

*hinsetz* .... *Füssehochleg* .... *geniess*

[RS-USER-Defi Brillator]

Kennt jemand die Tannahill Weavers?
Is zwar kein Irish Folk, die Jungs kommen dafür aber aus Schottland und können deswegen schon mal gar nicht schlecht sein!! ;) Schön mit BagPipes und so...