Song 203: "Shamrock Shore"

In early spring, when small birds sing, and lambs do sport and play
My way I took, my friends forsook and went to Dublin bay
I am what I ask a passenger and to England I sailed o’er
I bade farewell to all of my friends and I left the Shamrock shore

In London fair I did repare some pleasure for to find
I found it was a lovely place and pleasant to my mind
The ladies too were fair to view and rich the purse they wore
But none I saw that could compare to the Maids of the Shamrock shore
 

Song 202: "Le Tango funèbre" - Jacques Brel

Ah je les vois déjà
Me couvrant de baisers
Et s'arrachant mes mains
Et demandant tout bas
Est-ce que la mort s'en vient ?
Est-ce que la mort s'en va ?
Est-ce qu'il est encore chaud ?
Est-ce qu'il est déjà froid ?
Ils ouvrent mes armoires
Ils tâtent mes faïences
Ils fouillent mes tiroirs
Se régalant d'avance
De mes lettres d'amour
Enrubannées par deux
Qu'ils liront près du feu
En riant aux éclats
Ah Ah Ah Ah Ah Ah
 
Ah je les vois déjà
Compassés et frileux
Suivant comme des artistes
Mon costume de bois
Ils se poussent du cœur
Pour être le plus triste
Ils se poussent du bras
Pour être le premier
S'ont amené des vieilles
Qui ne me connaissaient plus
S'ont amené des enfants
Qui ne me connaissaient pas
Pensent aux prix des fleurs
Et trouvent indécent
De ne pas mourir au printemps
Quand on aime le lilas
Ah Ah Ah Ah Ah Ah
 
Ah je les vois déjà
Tous mes chers faux amis
Souriant sous le poids
Du devoir accompli
Ah je te vois déjà
Trop triste trop à l'aise
Protégeant sous le drap
Tes larmes lyonnaises
Tu ne sais même pas
Sortant de mon cimetière
Que tu entres en ton enfer
Quand s'accroche à ton bras
Le bras de ton quelconque
Le bras de ton dernier
Qui te fera pleurer
Bien autrement que moi
Ah Ah Ah Ah Ah Ah
 
Ah je me vois déjà
M'installant à jamais
Bien triste bien au froid
Dans mon champ d'osselets
Ah je me vois déjà
Je me vois tout au bout
De ce voyage-là
D'où l'on revient de tout
Je vois déjà tout ça
Et on a le brave culot
D'oser me demander
De ne plus boire que de l'eau
De ne plus trousser les filles
De mettre de l'argent de côté
D'aimer le filet de maquereau
Et de crier vive le roi
Ah Ah Ah Ah Ah Ah
 

Song 201: "Canción del Frente Unido"

Y como ser humano
el hombre lo que quiere es su pan
Las habladurías le bastan ya
Porque éstas nada le dan
Pues: un, dos, tres;
Pues: un, dos, tres.
Compañero, en tu lugar!
Porque eres del pueblo afíliate ya
En el Frente Popular.

And just because he's human
He doesn't like a pistol to his head
He wants no servants under him
And no boss over his head
So left, two, three!
So, left, two, three!
To the work that we must do.
March on in the workers' united front
For you are a worker, too.

Tu es un ouvrier-oui!
Viens avec nous, ami, n'ai pas peur!
Nous allons vers la grande union.
De tous les vrais travailleurs!
Marchons au pas,
Marchons au pas,
Camarades, vers notre front!
Range-toi dans le front de tous les ouvriers
Avec tous tes frères étrangers.

Si tens gana no ho dubtis
vine amb nosaltres amic, sense por
cansat de paraules el que vols és pa
Anem cap a la gran unió
Doncs: un, dos, tres. I un, dos, tres.
Cap al front marxem obrers
a lluitar tots junts per un futur millor
amb els companys estrangers.

Und weil der Prolet ein Prolet ist,
Drum wird ihn kein anderer befrei'n.
Es kann die Befreiun der Arbeiter nur
Das Werk der Arbeiter sein.
Drum links, zwei, drei
Drum links, zwei, drei
Wo dein Platz, Genosse, ist!
Reih' dich ein in die Arbeitereinheitsfront
Weil du auch ein Arbeiter bist.

Song 200: "Punay" - Atahualpa Yupanqui

¡Punay! ¡Punay ! 
¡Devuélveme, devuélveme, 
mi pastorcita perdida! 
¡Punay! ¡Punay ! 
¡Devuélveme, devuélveme, 
mi pastorcita perdida! 

Pastorcita de la Puna, 
te extraviaste en noche mala, 
Pastorcita de la Puna, 
te extraviaste en noche mala, 
mi voz te busca en el viento
y en la Puna te reclama.
mi voz te busca en el viento
y en la Puna te reclama.

¡Punay! ¡Punay ! 
¡Devuélveme, devuélveme, 
mi pastorcita perdida! 
¡Punay! ¡Punay ! 
¡Devuélveme, devuélveme, 
mi pastorcita perdida! 

Aunque tenga en esta vida, 
que viento y tierra tragar, 
Aunque tenga en esta vida, 
que viento y tierra tragar, 
pastorcita de la Puna, 
ti de encontrar,
ti de encontrar.
pastorcita de la Puna, 
ti de encontrar,
ti de encontrar.

Aunque tenga en esta vida, 
que viento y tierra tragar, 
Aunque tenga en esta vida, 
que viento y tierra tragar, 
pastorcita de la Puna, 
ti de encontrar,
ti de encontrar.
pastorcita de la Puna, 
ti de encontrar,
ti de encontrar,
ti de encontrar,
ti de encontrar.

¡Punay! ¡Punay ! 
¡Devuélveme, devuélveme, 
mi pastorcita perdida! 
¡Punay! ¡Punay ! 
¡Devuélveme, devuélveme, 
mi pastorcita perdida!

¡Punay! ¡Punay ! 
¡Punay!
 

Song 199: "Himno del Quinto Regimiento"

El dieciocho de julio
en el patio de un convento
el pueblo madrileño
fundó el quinto regimiento.

Anda jaleo, jaleo,
Suena la metralladora
y vamos al tiroteo,
y vamos al tiroteo.

Con Lister y Campesino,
con Galán y con Modesto,
con el comandante Carlos
no hay miliciano con miedo.

Con los cuatro batallones
que a Madrid están defendiendo
se va lo mejor de España,
la flor más roja del pueblo.

Con el quinto, quinto, quinto,
con el quinto regimiento,
madre, yo me voy al frente
para las líneas de fuego.

Song 198: "The Band Played Waltzing Matilda" - Eric Bogle

When I was a young man I carried me pack
And I lived the free life of the rover
From the Murray's green basin to the dusty outback
I waltzed my Matilda all over
Then in 1915 my country said: Son, 
It's time to stop rambling, there's work to be done
So they gave me a tin hat and they gave me a gun
And they sent me away to the war 

And the band played Waltzing Matilda
When the ship pulled away from the quay
And amid all the tears, flag waving and cheers
We sailed off for Gallipoli 

It well I remember that terrible day
When our blood stained the sand and the water
And how in that hell they call Suvla Bay
We were butchered like lambs at the slaughter
Johnny Turk, he was ready, he primed himself well
He rained us with bullets, and he showered us with shell
And in five minutes flat, we were all blown to hell
He nearly blew us back home to Australia 

And the band played Waltzing Matilda
When we stopped to bury our slain
Well we buried ours and the Turks buried theirs
Then it started all over again 

Oh those that were living just tried to survive
In that mad world of blood, death and fire
And for ten weary weeks I kept myself alive
While around me the corpses piled higher
Then a big Turkish shell knocked me arse over head
And when I awoke in me hospital bed
And saw what it had done, I wished I was dead
I never knew there was worse things than dying 

Oh no more I'll go Waltzing Matilda
All around the green bush far and near
For to hump tent and pegs, a man needs both legs
No more waltzing Matilda for me 

They collected the wounded, the crippled, the maimed
And they shipped us back home to Australia
The armless, the legless, the blind and the insane
Those proud wounded heroes of Suvla
And when the ship pulled into Circular Quay
I looked at the place where me legs used to be
And thank Christ there was no one there waiting for me
To grieve and to mourn and to pity 

And the Band played Waltzing Matilda
When they carried us down the gangway
Oh nobody cheered, they just stood there and stared
Then they turned all their faces away 

Now every April I sit on my porch
And I watch the parade pass before me
I see my old comrades, how proudly they march
Renewing their dreams of past glories
I see the old men all tired, stiff and worn
Those weary old heroes of a forgotten war
And the young people ask "What are they marching for?" 
And I ask myself the same question 

And the band plays Waltzing Matilda
And the old men still answer the call
But year after year, their numbers get fewer
Someday, no one will march there at all 

Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing Matilda
Who'll come a-Waltzing Matilda with me? 
And their ghosts may be heard as they march by the billabong
So who'll come a-Waltzing Matilda with me?
 

Song 197: "Skye Boat Song"

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;
Baffled, our foes stand by the shore,
Follow they will not dare.

Many's the lad fought on that day,
Well the claymore could wield,
When the night came, silently lay
Dead in Culloden's field.

Though the waves leap, soft shall ye sleep,
Ocean's a royal bed.
Rocked in the deep, Flora will keep
Watch by your weary head.

Burned are their homes, exile and death
Scatter the loyal men;
Yet ere the sword cool in the sheath
Charlie will come again.

Sing me a song of a lad that is gone,
Say, could that lad be I?
Merry of soul he sailed on a day
Over the sea to Skye.

Mull was astern, Rùm on the port,
Eigg on the starboard bow;
Glory of youth glowed in his soul;
Where is that glory now?

Give me again all that was there,
Give me the sun that shone!
Give me the eyes, give me the soul,
Give me the lad that's gone!

Billow and breeze, islands and seas,
Mountains of rain and sun,
All that was good, all that was fair,
All that was me is gone.


Note: First chorus and four stanzas are by Sir Harold Boulton and Anne Campbelle MacLeod. Second chorus and three stanzas are by Robert Louis Stevenson.
 

Song 196: "Donald Macgillavry" - James Hogg

Donald's gone up the hill tired and hungry,
Donald came down the hill wild and angry,
Donald will clear the cuckoo's nest cleverly,
Here is to the king and Donald McGillavry,
Come like a judge, Donald McGillavry,
Come like a judge, Donald McGillavry,
Balance them fair, and balance them cleverly:
Get rid of the counterfeit, Donald McGillavry.
 
Donald's ran over the hill without his leash,
As if he were mad or (bitten by) an adder, man:
When he comes back, some will be happy:
Here is to King James and Donald Mcgillavry.
Come like a weaver, Donald Mcgillavry,
Come like a weaver, Donald Mcgillavry,
A pack on your back, and measuring stick so clever;
Give them a full measure, my Donald Mcgillavry.
 
Donald has fought with thievery and dishonesty;
Donald has dinner with wrong-doers and beggers,
It would be better for Whigs and Whiggery,
To meet the devil (rather) than Donald Mcgillavry.
Come like a tailor, Donald Mcgillavry,
Come like a tailor, Donald Mcgillavry,
Push them about, in and out, thimble them cleverly,
Here is to King James and Donald Mcgillavry.
 
Donald's a fine man who breaks (away) from schemes;
Politicking and high airs, and new fangled things,
They must be gone: he will not be held back,
He must have justice, or faith he will take it, man.
Come like a cobbler, Donald Mcgillavry,
Come like a cobbler, Donald Mcgillavry,
Beat them, and bore them, and sew them cleverly,
Up with King James and Donald Mcgillavry.
 
Donald was lulled with deals and mockery,
Donald was blinded with dreams of property;
Bribes were many, but rewards were nothing, man,
Lord, how Donald is quarreling and worrying, man,
Come like the devil, Donald Mcgillavry,
Come like the devil, Donald Mcgillavry,
Slap them and scold them that prove so unbrotherly,
Up with King James and Donald Mcgillavry!

Donald's gane up the hill hard and hungry,
Donald's come down the hill wild and angry;
Donald will clear the gouk's nest cleverly,
Here's to the king and Donald Macgillavry.
Come like a weighbauk, Donald Macgillavry,
Come like a weighbauk, Donald Macgillavry,
Balance them fair, and balance them cleverly:
Off wi'the counterfeit, Donald Macgillavry.
 
Donald's run o'er the hill but his tether, man,
As he were wud, or stang'd wi' an ether, man;
When he comes back, there's some will look merrily:
Here's to King James and Donald Macgillavry.
Come like a weaver, Donald Macgillavry,
Come like a weaver, Donald Macgillavry,
Pack on your back, and elwand sae cleverly;
Gie them full measure, my Donald Macgillavry.
 
Donald has foughten wi' rief and roguery;
Donald has dinner'd wi banes and beggary,
Better it were for Whigs and Whiggery
Meeting the devil than Donald Macgillavry.
Come like a tailor, Donald Macgillavry,
Come like a tailor, Donald Macgillavry,
Push about, and in and out, thimble them cleverly,
Here's to King James and to Donald Macgillavry.
 
Donald's the callan that brooks nae tangleness;
Whigging and prigging and a'newfangleness,
They maun be gane: he winna be baukit, man:
He maun hae justice, or faith he'll tak it, man.
Come like a cobler, Donald Macgillavry,
Come like a cobler, Donald Macgillavry;
Beat them, and bore them, and lingel them cleverly,
Up wi' King James and Donald Macgillavry.
 
Donald was mumpit wi mirds and mockery;
Donald was blinded wi' blads o' property;
Arles ran high, but makings were naething, man,
Lord, how Donald is flyting and fretting, man.
Come like the devil, Donald Macgillavry,
Come like the devil, Donald Macgillavry;
Skelp them and scaud them that proved sae unbritherly,
Up wi King James and Donald Macgillavry!

 

Notes:
(Taken from here)
"The Stuart kings tried to take power away from Parliament with often disastrous results. Eventually this lead to James II being kicked off the throne by his son-in-law, a Dutchman named William of Orange. The people who considered James the true king were called Jacobites.

However, none of this matters because this song was unknown to the Jacobites. In fact, it was first published in 1819 by a man named James Hogg.

Hogg was a Scottish poet and novelist, as well as an early parodist. He was very popular for his time, but among his most well known works was Jacobite Reliques, a collection of Jacobite (and some Whig) songs. Donald MacGillavry was among the Jacobite ones and described by Hogg as, “…one of the best songs that ever was made…a capital old song, and very popular.” He goes on to explain an entirely fictitious history for the song, hearkening back to the 1715 and 1745 Jacobite risings in Scotland, talking about two obscure soldiers in those wars with the last name MacGillavry, expounding on how because they were a minor sub-clan and not associated with powerful warring factions, they were used as a symbol for a united Scotland, etc. Seriously, read it yourself."
 

Song 195: "La Marseillaise"

Arise, children of the Fatherland,
The day of glory has arrived!
Against us tyranny's
Bloody banner is raised, (repeat)
Do you hear, in the countryside,
The roar of those ferocious soldiers?
They're coming right into your arms
To cut the throats of your sons, your women!

To arms, citizens,
Form your battalions,
Let's march, let's march!
Let an impure blood
Soak our fields!

What does this horde of slaves,
Of traitors and conspiratorial kings want?
For whom are these vile chains,
These long-prepared irons? (repeat)
Frenchmen, for us, ah! What outrage
What fury it must arouse!
It is us they dare plan
To return to the old slavery!

What! Foreign cohorts
Would make the law in our homes!
What! These mercenary phalanxes
Would strike down our proud warriors! (repeat)
Great God! By chained hands
Our brows would yield under the yoke
Vile despots would have themselves
The masters of our destinies!
 

Allons enfants de la Patrie,
Le jour de gloire est arrivé!
Contre nous de la tyrannie,
L'étendard sanglant est levé, (bis)
Entendez-vous dans les campagnes
Mugir ces féroces soldats?
Ils viennent jusque dans vos bras
Égorger vos fils, vos compagnes!

Aux armes, citoyens,
Formez vos bataillons,
Marchons, marchons!
Qu'un sang impur
Abreuve nos sillons!

Que veut cette horde d'esclaves,
De traîtres, de rois conjurés?
Pour qui ces ignobles entraves,
Ces fers dès longtemps préparés? (bis)
Français, pour nous, ah! quel outrage
Quels transports il doit exciter!
C'est nous qu'on ose méditer
De rendre à l'antique esclavage!

Quoi! des cohortes étrangères
Feraient la loi dans nos foyers!
Quoi! Ces phalanges mercenaires
Terrasseraient nos fiers guerriers! (bis)
Grand Dieu! Par des mains enchaînées
Nos fronts sous le joug se ploieraient
De vils despotes deviendraient
Les maîtres de nos destinées!

Song 194: "Space Oddity" - David Bowie

Ground Control to Major Tom
Ground Control to Major Tom
Take your protein pills and put your helmet on
Ground Control to Major Tom (ten, nine, eight, seven, six)
Commencing countdown, engines on (five, four, three)
Check ignition and may God's love be with you (two, one, liftoff)

This is Ground Control to Major Tom
You've really made the grade
And the papers want to know whose shirts you wear
Now it's time to leave the capsule if you dare

"This is Major Tom to Ground Control
I'm stepping through the door
And I'm floating in a most peculiar way
And the stars look very different today

For here
Am I sitting in a tin can
Far above the world
Planet Earth is blue
And there's nothing I can do

Though I'm past one hundred thousand miles
I'm feeling very still
And I think my spaceship knows which way to go
Tell my wife I love her very much she knows"

Ground Control to Major Tom
Your circuit's dead, there's something wrong
Can you hear me, Major Tom?
Can you hear me, Major Tom?
Can you hear me, Major Tom?

Can you "Here am I floating 'round my tin can
Far above the moon
Planet Earth is blue
And there's nothing I can do"
 

Song 193: "Jimmie's Song" - Emanuel and the Fear

Jimmie takes his time as he washes his eyes
and then makes his bed up and then heads for the outside. 
And it doesn't make a difference every once and a while
if you've got nothing to do but sit around and think about
how nothing he could do could ever feel good 

But he knows you gotta get a job if you're looking to move on
Like everybody else but it's the same thing
Always the same dream keeping him from moving, saying 

I don't want to do nothin but be in a rock band
I don't want to get a job, I don't wanto be a man
I don't want to do nothin but be in a rock band
I don't want to do nothing at all
I don't want to do nothing at all 

But then the bills pour in and he thinks he'd like to swim, 
but he still don't go anywhere. 
Until he gets too weak, they got him swimming in his sleep
And then he needs to grab something to get some air.  
And so he pulls a job down at the landfill, 
and he don't mind the working outside looking out on the turnpike. 
But the days fly by and the fire in his side tells him he'll never be right until the day that he dies, saying 

I don't want to do nothin but be in a rock band
I don't want to get a job, I don't wanto be a man
I don't want to do nothin but be in a rock band
I don't want to do nothing at all
I don't want to do nothing at all 

All his words fall down through the cracks in between, 
and spread like sunlight down on the world underneath. 
But up here they fall to nowhere they're just a feeling he needs, 
as he drives through the weeds, 
and through the swamps and through the trees, 

As he's talking like he's holding a gun in his hand, 
but there aint nobody there, it's just him waving his hands. 
And then he drives on to his guy at the van to get his
cup of coffee with three sugars for two dollars. 
And back to work another day another hour, 
he gets older by the minute but there's nobody around him who can understand, looking at a young man feeling like no one ever notices, 
They live the same day over and over 

No, I don't want to do nothin but be in a rock band
I don't want to get a job, I don't wanto be a man
I don't want to do nothin but be in a rock band
I don't want to do nothing at all
I don't want to do nothing at all
 

Song 192: "Los dos abuelos" - Atahualpa Yupanqui

Me galopan en la sangre
dos abuelos, si señor. 
Uno lleno de silencios
y el otro, medio cantor.

Hace tiempo, mucho tiempo
que el indio ya se alejó, 
con su lanza y su alarido, 
su tobiano y su tambor.

El gaucho salió a buscarlo
por esos campos de Dios. 
Se lo habrá traga'o la tierra, 
porque tampoco volvió.

Volvió pero hecho leyenda
hecho canto y tradición. 
Para que el hombre argentino
no pierda su condición.

Me galopan en la sangre
dos abuelos, si señor. 
Uno lleno de silencios, 
y el otro medio cantor.
 

Song 191: "Cast No Shadow" - Brown Bird

I woke up
Despite my head
To see the trail I blazed last night with the words I said
Still she laid there in the charred and smoking wake of fears I fed

Then she got up
To look around
Muttered words I'd never heard a human sound
Then from her hair grew forty serpents
From her eyes a fiery shroud
From her mouth came forty voices and I heard them cry aloud…

I tried my best
To calm her down
There wasn't any of her left but evil now
I cast a spell, a stone, a tranquilizing needle and a prayer
She grabbed me by the bones and shook my flesh and said I swear

The sun won't cast no shadow anymore
The willows never weep
And the wind will never moan

The sun won't cast no shadow anymore
The willows never weep
And the wind will never moan

Now she is gone
I don't know how
Not even sure just where it is I am right now
There's only darkness and the absence of any air that I could breathe
I could've sworn that I was born but how could anyone believe

The sun won't cast no shadow anymore
The willows never weep
And the wind will never moan

The sun won't cast no shadow anymore
The willows never weep
And the wind will never moan
 

Song 190: "The Fisherman's Song" - Silly Wizard

By the storm torn shoreline
A woman is standing,
The spray strung like jewels in her hair.
And the sea tore the rocks
Near that desolate landing,
As though it had known she stood there.

For she has come down
To condemn that wild ocean
For the murderous loss of her man.
His boat sailed out on Wednesday morning,
And it's feared she's gone down
With all hands.

Oh and white were the wave caps
And wild was their parting.
So fierce is the warring of love.
But she prayed to the gods,
Both of men and of sailors,
Not to cast their cruel nets
o'er her love.

There's a school on the hill
Where the sons of dead fathers
Are led toward tempests and gales.
Where their God-given wings
Are clipped close to their bodies,
And their eyes are bound round
With ship's sails.

What force leads a man
To a life filled with danger
High on seas or a mile underground?
It's when need is his master
And poverty's no stranger,
And there's no other work to be found.

Song 189: "Hunted" - The Lonely Wild

The morning we woke to feel our hope
Burrowed it's way inside our home
The apartment walls just could not hold
When the ground shook it shook our bones

Sometimes I feel like
We're being hunted!
By time, oh time
Riding our heels!

Sometimes I feel like
We're being hunted!
By time, oh time
Riding our heels!
Oh!

Take me with you when you go
I don't want to face the day alone
I don't want to lean on desperate faith
To carry me through my dying days

Sometimes I feel like
We're being hunted!
By time, oh time
Riding our heels!

Sometimes I feel like
We're being hunted!
By time, oh time
Riding our heels!

Don't break
Before I
Break
Before I
Break
Before I…
 

Song 188: "Donald Where's Your Troosers?" - Andy Stewart

I've just come down
From the Isle of Skye
I'm not very big and I'm awful shy
And the lassies shout when I go by
Donald, where's your troosers?

Let the wind blow high
Let the wind blow low
Through the streets
In my kilt, I'll go
All the lassies say hello
Donald, where's your troosers?

A lassie took me to a ball
And it was slippery in the hall
And I was feared that I would fall
For I had nae on my troosers

Now I went down to London Town
And I had some fun in the underground
The ladies turned their heads around
Saying, Donald, where are your trousers

To wear the kilt is my delight
It is not wrong I know it's right
The Highlanders would get a fright
If they saw me in the trousers

The lassies want me every one
Well, let them catch me if they can
You canna take the breaks
If a Highland man
And I don't wear the troosers

I've just come down
From the Isle of Skye
I'm not very big and I'm awful shy
And the lassies shout when I go by
Donald, where's your troosers?
 

Song 187: "La Vida es un Carnaval" - Celia Cruz

Todo aquel que piense que la vida es desigual
Tiene que saber que no es así
Que la vida es una hermosura, hay que vivirla

Todo aquel que piense que está solo y que está mal
Tiene que saber que no es así
Que en la vida no hay nadie solo, siempre hay alguien

Ay, no hay que llorar
Que la vida es un carnaval
Y es más bello vivir cantando
Oh-oh-oh, ay, no hay que llorar
Que la vida es un carnaval
Y las penas se van cantando

Oh-oh-oh, ay, no hay que llorar
Que la vida es un carnaval
Y es más bello vivir cantando
Oh-oh-oh, ay, no hay que llorar
Que la vida es un carnaval
Y las penas se van cantando

Todo aquel que piense que la vida siempre es cruel
Tiene que saber que no es así
Que tan sólo hay momentos malos, y todo pasa

Todo aquel que piense que esto nunca va a cambiar
Tiene que saber que no es así
Que al mal tiempo, buena cara, y todo cambia

Ay, no hay que llorar
Que la vida es un carnaval
Y es más bello vivir cantando
Oh-oh-oh, ay, no hay que llorar
Que la vida es un carnaval
Y las penas se van cantando

Oh-oh-oh, ay, no hay que llorar
Que la vida es un carnaval
Y es más bello vivir cantando
Oh-oh-oh, ay, no hay que llorar
Que la vida es un carnaval
Y las penas se van cantando

Carnaval
Es para reír (no hay que llorar)
Para gozar
Carnaval
Para disfrutar (hay que vivir cantando)

Carnaval
La vida es un carnaval (no hay que llorar)
Todos podemos cantar
Carnaval
Ay, señores

Carnaval
Todo aquel que piense
Que la vida es cruel
Nunca estará solo
Dios está con él

Para aquellos que se quejan tanto
Para aquellos que sólo critican
Para aquellos que usan las armas
Para aquellos que nos contaminan
Para aquellos que hacen la guerra
Para aquellos que viven pecando
Para aquellos que nos maltratan
Para aquellos que nos contagian
 

Song 186: "Canción del cañaveral" - Atahualpa Yupanqui

Muele, que muele el trapiche,
Y en su moler, y en su moler,
Hasta la vida del hombre,
Muele también, muele también.

Tumbao sobre la maloja,
Pobre de mí, pobre de mí,
Sin que me arrime consuelos,
El yaraví, el yaraví.

Verde cañita de azúcar,
¡ qué dulce es, qué dulce es ¡,
Pero al final de la zafra,
Se vuelve hiel, se vuelve hiel.

Yo tengo un sueño secreto,
Vivo por él, vivo por él,
No hay trapiche que a mi sueño,
Pueda moler, pueda moler.
No hay trapiche que a mi sueño,
Pueda moler, pueda moler.

El sol de alguna mañana,
Me alumbrará, me alumbrará,
Cantando sobre los surcos,
Cañaveral, cañaveral.
Cantando sobre los surcos,
Cañaveral, cañaveral.

Ha de llegar algún tiempo,
¿cuando será? ¿cuando será?,
En que te sienta mi amigo,
Cañaveral, cañaveral.
En que te sienta mi amigo,
Cañaveral, cañaveral.

Muele, que muele el trapiche,
Y en su moler, y en su moler,
Hasta la vida del hombre,
Muele también, muele también.
 

Song 185: "The Ballad of Crowfoot" - Willie Dunn

Comes the Spring, and it's warm thaw,
Around your neck, the eagle claw,
Upon your head, the buffalo horn
Today a great new chief is born.
So raise him fast toward the sun,
A heart now beats, a life's begun.
It's eighteen hundred twenty-one,
Today a Blackfoot soul is born.

Crowfoot, Crowfoot, why the tears?
You've been a brave man, for many years.
Why the sadness? Why the sorrow?
Maybe there'll be a better tomorrow.

The years have gone, the years have passed,
Your heart has set, your soul is cast,
You stand before the Council Fire,
You have the mind and the desire,
Of notions wise you speak so well
And in brave deeds you do excel
And it's eighteen hundred fifty-three,
And you stand the chief of Confederacy,

You are the leader, you are the chief,
You stand against both liar and thief,
They trade braves whiskey and steal your land,
And they're coming in swift like the wind-blown sand,
They shoot the buffalo and kill the game,
And send their preachers in to shame,
And it's eighteen hundred sixty-four,
And you think of peace and you think of war.

Crowfoot, Crowfoot, why the tears?
You've been a brave man, for many years.
Why the sadness? Why the sorrow?
Maybe there'll be a better tomorrow.

See the settlers in more numbers
He takes whatever he encounters,
You've seen the Sioux all battered, beaten,
They're all in rags, they haven't eaten,
The Nez Perce' are much the same,
It seems like such a heartless game,
And it's eighteen hundred seventy-six,
And the enemy's full of those death-dealing tricks.

Today the treaty stands on the table,
Will you sign it, are you able,
It offers food and protection too,
Do you really think they'll hold it true?
It offers a reserve, now isn't that grand,
And in return you cede all your land,
And it's eighteen hundred seventy-seven,
And you know the scales are so uneven.

Crowfoot, Crowfoot, why the tears?
You've been a brave man, for many years.
Why the sadness? Why the sorrow?
Maybe there'll be a better tomorrow.

Well, the buffalo are slaughtered, there's nothing to eat,
The government's late again, with the meat,
And your people are riddled
With the white man's disease,
And in the summer you're sick,
And in the winter you freeze,
And sometimes you wonder why you signed that day,
But they broke the treaties themselves anyway,
And it's eighteen hundred eighty-nine,
And your death star explodes and then it falls.

Crowfoot, Crowfoot, why the tears?
You've been a brave man, for many years.
Why the sadness? Why the sorrow?
Maybe there'll be a better tomorrow.

The years have gone, the years have flown,
A nation since has swiftly grown,
But for the native, it's all the same,
There's still the hardship, there's still the pain,
There's still the hardship, there's still the strife,
It's bitterness shines like a whetted knife,
There's still the hypocrisy, and still the hate,
Was that in the treaties, was that our fate?
We're all unhappy pawns in the government's game,
And it's always the native who gets the blame,
It's a problem which money can never lessen,
And it's nineteen hundred seventy-one,

Crowfoot, Crowfoot, why the tears?
You've been a brave man, for many years.
Why the sadness? Why the sorrow?
Maybe there'll be a better tomorrow.
Maybe one day you'll find honesty,
Instead of the usual treachery,
Perhaps one day the truth may prevail,
And the warmth of love which it does entail.

Crowfoot, Crowfoot, why the tears?
You've been a brave man, for many years.
Why the sadness? Why the sorrow?
Maybe there'll be a better tomorrow.

 

Song 184: "Sell Yourself Lightly" - The Family Crest

Sell yourself lightly
Daily and nightly
She moves to the strings of an aging guitar
Moving so queerly
Speaking so clearly
She makes herself known with a boisterous guffaw 

She goes,
Woah
Oh, I'm alone and so far
Woah

Softly, slowly
Hilter, kilter
Out into the streets with an aging guitar
Now the wind wails
And she'll set sail
Out into the streets with a boisterous guffaw 

Sell yourself daily
Speaking so hasty, 
Tell me you love me, you know we've come far! 
But oh now she's shaking
Spinning and quaking
Armed to the teeth with a boisterous guffaw 

Oh and the band it rises up
Oh and she's never coming down 

Softly, slowly
Hilter, kilter
Out into the streets with an aging guitar
Now the wind wails
And she'll set sail
Out into the streets with a boisterous guffaw