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Blue Tar Road

  • Trad
  • Hunger, hardship and poverty are the traveller's weary load
    Hunger, hardship and poverty and the blue tar road

    I am a true born Irishman, a traveller am I
    My home's the road, no fixed abode, I'll travel till I die
    For few men give me camping space and fewer call me friend
    The hard road of the travelling man I'll travel till the end

    To Dublin city fair we came in the year of fifty-nine
    And we camped in Lansdowne's green valleys with others of our kind
    But Dublin Corporation, good Christians to a man
    They tore down our tents, uprooted us and towed out our caravans

    And here in Cherry Orchard where no cherry blossoms bloom
    We're forgotten and unwanted in dirt and muck and gloom
    But the man above who died for love and nailed unto a tree
    Sure wasn't he a traveller, the same as you and me

    Last chorus:
    And some day in His own good time he will ease a traveller's load
    And we'll bid farewell to poverty and the blue tar road

    As sung by Kevin Mitchell

Susannes Folksong-Notizen

  • nichts / nothing

Quelle: Ireland

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aktualisiert am 02.04.2010, 08.09.99