Memorised

Song 334: "Scotland the Brave"

Hark when the night is falling
Hear! hear the pipes are calling,
Loudly and proudly calling,
Down thro' the glen.
There where the hills are sleeping,
Now feel the blood a-leaping,
High as the spirits of the old Highland men.

Towering in gallant fame,
Scotland my mountain hame,
High may your proud standards gloriously wave,
Land of my high endeavour,
Land of the shining river,
Land of my heart forever,
Scotland the brave.


High in the misty Highlands,
Out by the purple islands,
Brave are the hearts that beat
Beneath Scottish skies.
Wild are the winds to meet you,
Staunch are the friends that greet you,
Kind as the love that shines from fair maiden's eyes.

Far off in sunlit places,
Sad are the Scottish faces,
Yearning to feel the kiss
Of sweet Scottish rain.
Where tropic skies are beaming,
Love sets the heart a-dreaming,
Longing and dreaming for the homeland again.

Song 85: "Carolina in the Morning" - Trocadero

Nothing could be finer
Than to be in Carolina
In the morning

No one could be sweeter
Than my sweetie when I meet her
In the morning

When the morning glories
Twine around the door
Whispering pretty stories
I long to hear once more

Strolling with my girlie
where the dew is pearly early
In the morning
Butterflies all flutter up
and kiss each little buttercup
at dawning

Song 74: "Embrace the Endless Ocean" - Amon Amarth

I stroke the blade with my hand
the sharp edge cuts the skin
blood drips to the rain wet sand
my journey can begin

Once a slave but now I'm free
my honor is restored
once again I'll ride the seas
free at last from whip and oar

I slide the sword into the sheath
the ocean god is hailed
and as we push out to the sea
we raise the red striped sails

I've missed the breeze of my home shores
the frozen lakes and winter snow
but now my dreams start to unfold
father, I'm coming home

The storm came down without remorse
and water crashed the rails
the ship was thrown back and forth
as strong winds ripped the sails

The icy waves embrace my skin
I am going numb
The endless ocean swallows me
This will be my cold wet tomb

Won't feel the breeze of my home shore
nor see the lakes or winter snow
my hopeful dreams lie ripped and torn
father, I die alone

Song 69: "¡Nunca jamás!" - Atahualpa Yupanqui

From hill to hill you have to go,
and my trail you will search for.
From hill to hill you have to go,
and my trail you will search for.
The trail of the vicuñas,
only that will you find.
But me, never.
But me, never.

Until my house you must go,
pure stone only.
Until my house you must go,
pure stone only.
The wind roars and roars,
only that will you find.
But me, never.
But me, never.

Until the cemetery you must go,
and my tomb you will search for.
Until the cemetery you must go,
and my tomb you will search for.
The silence of the high mountains,
only that will you find.
But me, never.
But me, never.

From hill to hill you have to go,
and my trail you will search for.
From hill to hill you have to go,
and my trail you will search for.
The trail of the vicuñas,
only that will you find.
But me, never.
But me, never.

De loma en loma has de ir
y mi rastro buscarás.
De loma en loma has de ir
y mi rastro buscarás.
La huella de las vicuñas,
eso sólo encontrarás.
Pero a mí, nunca jamás.
Pero a mí, nunca jamás.

Hasta mi choza has de ir.
Purita piedra nomás.
Hasta mi choza has de ir.
Purita piedra nomás.
El viento zumba que zumba,
Eso sólo encontrarás.
Pero a mí, nunca jamás
Pero a mí, nunca jamás.

Al antigal has de ir
y mi tumba buscarás,
Al antigal has de ir
y mi tumba buscarás,
Silencio de la alta sierra,
eso sólo encontrarás.
Pero a mí, nunca jamás
Pero a mí, nunca jamás.

De loma en loma has de ir
y mi rastro buscarás.
De loma en loma has de ir
y mi rastro buscarás.
La huella de las vicuñas,
eso sólo encontrarás.
Pero a mí, nunca jamás.
Pero a mí, nunca jamás.

Song 61: "Diggy Diggy Hole" - Lewis and Simon of Yogcast

Brothers of the mine rejoice!
Swing, swing, swing with me
Raise your pick and raise your voice!
Sing, sing, sing with me
Down and down into the deep
Who knows what we'll find beneath?
Diamonds, rubies, gold and more
Hidden in the mountain store

Born underground, suckled from a teat of stone
Raised in the dark, the safety of our mountain home
Skin made of iron, steel in our bones
To dig and dig makes us free
Come on brothers sing with me!

I am a dwarf and I'm digging a hole
Diggy diggy hole, diggy diggy hole
I am a dwarf and I'm digging a hole
Diggy diggy hole, digging a hole

The sunlight will not reach this low
Deep, deep in the mine
Never seen the blue moon glow
Dwarves won't fly so high
Fill a glass and down some mead!
Stuff your bellies at the feast!
Stumble home and fall asleep
Dreaming in our mountain keep

Born underground, grown inside a rocky womb
The earth is our cradle; the mountain shall become our tomb
Face us on the battlefield; you will meet your doom
We do not fear what lies beneath
We can never dig too deep

I am a dwarf and I'm digging a hole
Diggy diggy hole, diggy diggy hole
I am a dwarf and I'm digging a hole
Diggy diggy hole, digging a hole

Song 58: Gracias al sacar

When the flakes cover my hair
and melt on my cheeks,
they give me their colour
and I almost feel clean.

My skin is from the south,
where it can smile to the Sun,
but I love the north
where grey ships
cover my father's
best friend.

Three clouds fill the sky.
Saint Mary, the painted girl,
condemns me,
because my father is Zapotec,
and he branded me,
although it was not his fault.

The three ships
unload pure white
and I laugh, because I should
say "Thank you for removing".
Because I feel clean,
and the brand burns less
underneath the mantle that wraps the earth,
and turns the day into a gift.

And the clouds are so white!
Like the owner
of these states,
this great plantation.
These northerners blend
with the colour of the snow,
like I do not.
And they mark me, because I do not want to forget myself,
because my skin reflects the Sun
better than the snow does.

And because my flag,
I raise it higher
than those stars and stripes.
And because my flag
is not only one, [French]
but many. [Scots-Gaelic]
And I do say "Thank you for removing"!
But not to the owner,
but to my mum and my father,
because I was wiped clean:
Not of the kiss of the Sun
that my father gave me,
or of the second tongue
that my mother gave me,
but of only loving one nation.
Clean,
of choosing whether the Sun or the snow
would make me laugh,
and I choose to smile for both.
And Sun and snow,
both are my home.

Cuando los copos cubren mi cabello
and melt on my cheeks,
siento que me dan su color
and I almost feel clean.

Mi piel es del sur,
donde puede sonreírle al Sol,
but I love the north
where grey ships
cubren al mejor amigo
de mi padre.

Tres nubes llenan al cielo.
Saint Mary, the painted girl,
condemns me,
porque mi padre es Zapoteco,
and he branded me,
aunque no fue su culpa.

The three ships
unload pure white
y me rio, porque debería
decir "Gracias al sacar".
Because I feel clean,
and the brand burns less
bajo el manto que envuelve la tierra,
y convierte en regalo este día.

And the clouds are so white!
Como el patrón
of these states,
esta gran plantación.
These northerners blend
con el color de la nieve,
like I do not.
Y me marcan, porque no quiero perderme,
because my skin reflects the Sun
better than the snow does.

Y porque mi bandera,
yo la alzo a lo más alto
than those stars and stripes.
Y porque mi bandera
n'est pas seulement une, [francés: no es solo una]
ach mòran. [Scots-Gaelic: but many.]
¡Y sí digo "Gracias al sacar"!
Pero no al patrón,
but to my mum y mi padre,
because I was wiped clean:
No del beso del Sol
que me dio mi padre,
or of the second tongue
that my mother gave me,
pero de solo amar una nación.
Limpio,
of choosing whether the Sun or the snow
me harían reír,
y elijo sonreír por ambas.
And Sun and snow,
ambas son mi patria.

Song 56: "Immigrants (We Get the Job Done)"

[Intro: J. Period]
It's really astonishing that in a country founded by immigrants, "immigrant" has somehow become a bad word.

[Intro: "Yorktown" sample]
[Hercules Mulligan]
And just like that it’s over, we tend to our wounded, we count our dead
[John Laurens]
Black and white soldiers wonder alike if this really means freedom…
[George Washington]
Not yet

[Verse 1: K’Naan]
I got 1 job, 2 job, 3 when I need them
I got 5 roommates in this one studio, but I never really see them
And we all came America trying to get a lap dance from Lady Freedom
But now Lady Liberty is acting like Hilary Banks with a pre-nup
Man, I was brave, sailing on graves
Don’t think I didn’t notice those tombstones disguised as waves
I’m no dummy, here is something funny, you can be an immigrant without risking your lives
Or crossing these borders with thrifty supplies
All you got to do is see the world with new eyes

Immigrants, we get the job done
Look how far I come
Look how far I come
Look how far I come
We get the job done

Look how far I come
Look how far I come
Look how far I come
Immigrants, we get the job done

[Verse 2: Snow Tha Product]
It’s a hard line when you’re an import
Baby boy, it's hard times
When you ain't sent for
Racists feed the belly of the beast
With they pitchforks, rich chores
Done by the people that get ignored
Ya se armó
Ya se despertaron
It’s a whole awakening
La alarma ya sonó hace rato
Los que quieren buscan
Pero nos apodan como vagos
We are the same ones
Hustling on every level
Ten los datos
Walk a mile in our shoes
Abróchense los zapatos
I been scoping ya dudes, ya’ll ain't been working like I do
I'll outwork you, it hurts you
You claim I’m stealing jobs though
Peter Piper claimed he picked them, he just underpaid Pablo
But there ain't a paper trail when you living in the shadows
We're America's ghost writers, the credit's only borrowed
It’s a matter of time before the checks all come
But…

Immigrants, we get the job done

Look how far I come
Look how far I come
Look how far I come
We get the job done

Look how far I come
Look how far I come
Look how far I come
Immigrants, we get the job—
Not yet

[Bridge: Snow Tha Product]
The credit is only borrowed
It’s America's ghost writers, the credit's only borrowed
It’s America's ghost writers
America's ghost writers
America's ghost writers, the credit's only borrow-borrowed
It’s Americas ghost writers, a credit is only borrowed
It’s Americas ghost writers, a credit is only borrowed
It’s Americas ghost writers, a credit is only borrowed
It's

Immigrants, we get the job done

[Verse 3: Riz MC]
Ay yo aye, immigrants we don’t like that
Na they don’t play British empire strikes back
They beating us like 808’s and high hats
At our own game of invasion, but this ain't Iraq
Who these fugees what did they do for me
But contribute new dreams
Taxes and tools, swagger and food to eat
Cool, they flee war zones, but the problem ain't ours
Even if our bombs landed on them like the Mayflower
Buckingham Palace or Capitol Hill
Blood of my ancestors had that all built
It's the ink you print on your dollar bill, oil you spill
Thin red line on the flag you hoist when you kill
But still we just say "look how far I come"
Hindustan, Pakistan, to London
To a galaxy far from their ignorance
Cos-

Immigrants, we get the job done

[Verse 4: Residente]
Por tierra o por agua
Identidad falsa
Brincamos muros o flotamos en balsas
La peleamos como Sandino en Nicaragua
Somos como las plantas que crecen sin agua
Sin pasaporte americano
Porque la mitad de gringolandia es terreno mexicano
Hay que ser bien hijo se puta
Nosotros les sembramos el árbol y ellos se comen la fruta
Somos los que cruzaron
Aquí vinimos a buscar el oro que nos robaron
Tenemos mas trucos que la policía secreta
Metimos la casa completa en una maleta
Con un pico, una pala
Y un rastrillo
Te construimos un castillo
Como es que dice el coro cabrón?

Immigrants, we get the job done

Look how far I come
Look how far I come
Look how far I come
We get the job done

Look how far I come
Look how far I come
Look how far I come
Immigrants, we get the job done

Look how far I come
Look how far I come
Look how far I come
Immigrants, we get the job done

Not yet

Song 55: "Himno de la Sexta División"

We fight because we are,
because we were provoked.
Our hands knew only
the hammer and the sickle.
The republic put
the rifle between our hands.
For a liberated Spain
my republican rifle.

We are of the Sixth,
Sixth Division.
For our brothers
our heart.
Death, death, and death
for the invasion.
We are of the Sixth,
Sixth Division.

For the Spain of the fathers
I come to the field to see you.
Italian who proclaims
the right of the strongest;
renegade of your fatherland
German of blood and death - 
for the Spain of my children
we will meet at the front.

To the cry of "Counter-attack!"
we will advance and advance,
because behind of the trenches
await us our towns.
Await us our mountain ranges
and our rich fields.
And a free democracy
for the good of our people.

When the day of triumph
opens its flags to the sky,
to your plants we will surrender
the rifles of the war.
Our hands have a hunger
of the factory and the land.
Over ruins we will raise you
strong and free, our dear nation.

Combatimos porque somos,
porque fuimos provocados.
Nuestras manos conocían
el martillo y el arado.
La republica nos puso
el fusil entre las manos.
Por España libertada
mi fusil republicano.

Somos de la Sexta,
Sexta división.
Para los hermanos
nuestro corazón.
Muerte, muerte y muerte
para la invasión.
Somos de la Sexta,
Sexta división.

Por la España de mis padres
vengo al campo para verte.
Italiano que proclamas
el derecho del más fuerte;
renegado de tu patria
alemán de sangre y muerte-
por la España de mis hijos
nos veremos en el frente.

A la voz de "contraataque"
avancemos y avancemos,
que detrás de las trincheras
nos aguardan nuestros pueblos.
Nos aguardan nuestras sierras
y los campos opulentos
Y una libre democracia
para bien de nuestro pueblo.

Cuando el día del triunfo
abra al cielo sus banderas,
a tus plantas rendiremos
los fusiles de la guerra.
Nuestras manos tienen hambre
de la fábrica y la tierra.
Sobre escombros te alzaremos
fuerte y libre, Patria nuestra.

Song 53: "A la huelga"

Workers, to the strike!
Do not go to work
Leave the tool alone
Because it is time to fight

Ten, to the strike!
A hundred, to the strike!
To the strike, mother,
I am going, too.
A hundred, to the strike!
A thousand, to the strike!
I go for them, mother,
And they go for me.

Against the government of hunger
We are going to rise up
All of the workers
Elbow to elbow for bread

From the pit and the field
From the wheel and the loom
All the town will go
To the general strike

All the people of the world
Will give a helping hand
To return to Spain
Her lost liberty

A la huelga compañeros
No vayáis a trabajar
Dejad quieta la herramienta
Que es la hora de luchar.

A la huelga diez,
A la huelga cien,
A la huelga, madre,
Yo voy también.
A la huelga cien,
A la huelga mil,
Yo por ellos, madre,
Y ellos por mí.

Contra el gobierno del hambre
Nos vamos a levantar
Todos los trabajadores
Codo a codo por el pan

Desde el pozo y la besana
Desde el torno y el telar
Irá el pueblo entero
A la huelga general

Todos los pueblos del mundo
La mano nos van a dar
Para devolver a España
Su perdida libertad.

Song 49: "El arriero va" - Atahualpa Yupanqui

The twisters dance on the sand
the sun plays on the shine of the rock scree
and tightly held by the magic of the trail
the muleteer goes, the muleteer goes

His cape is a flag of fog in the wind
the flutes of the grasslands greet him
and strutting along the hill roads
the muleteer goes, the muleteer goes

The sorrows and the calves,
they follow the same trail;
The sorrows and the calves,
they follow the same trail;
the sorrows are ours
the calves are someone else's,
the sorrows are ours
the calves are someone else's.

A slaughtering of the suns is shown by the afternoon
the lights of the rock scree have gone to sleep,
and encouraging the troop, let's go, let's go!
the muleteer goes, the muleteer goes

Hopefully the night will bring back memories,
that will make loneliness less heavy,
like a shadow in a shadow through those hills,
the muleteer goes, the muleteer goes

The sorrows and the calves,
they follow the same trail;
The sorrows and the calves,
they follow the same trail;
the sorrows are ours
the calves are someone else's,
the sorrows are ours
the calves are someone else's.

And tightly held by the magic of the trail
the muleteer goes, the muleteer goes

En las arenas bailan los remolinos
el sol juega en el brillo del pedregal
y prendido a la magia de los caminos
el arriero va, el arriero va... 

Es bandera de niebla su poncho al viento
lo saludan las flautas del pajonal
y guapeando la senda por esos cerros, 
el arriero va, el arriero va...

Las penas y las vaquitas, 
se van por la misma senda; 
Las penas y las vaquitas, 
se van por la misma senda; 
las penas son de nosotros
las vaquitas son ajenas
las penas son de nosotros
las vaquitas son ajenas. 

Un degüello de soles muestra la tarde, 
se han dormido las luces del pedregal, 
y animando a la tropa, dale que dale
el arriero va, el arriero va... 

Ojalá que la noche traiga recuerdos, 
que haga menos pesada la soledad, 
como sombra en la sombra por esos cerros, 
el arriero va, el arriero va... 

Las penas y las vaquitas, 
se van por la misma senda; 
Las penas y las vaquitas, 
se van por la misma senda; 
las penas son de nosotros
las vaquitas son ajenas
las penas son de nosotros
las vaquitas son ajenas.

Y prendido la magia de los caminos, 
el arriero va, el arriero va....

Song 48: "The Bay of Suvla" - The Dreadnoughts

Plucked from the finest of hamlets and dales
from Sydney and Bristol and Yorkshire we hail
riding the finest of summertime gales
we’re bound for the Bay of Suvla

and it’s away, Suvla Bay
Haulin’ away to the Suvla Bay
Fare thee well my pretty young maids
We’re bound for the Bay of Suvla

our wake it is bursting right over the pier
the engines do carry this bold chevalier
to face the brave Abdul Abulbul Amir
we’re bound for the Bay of Suvla

and it's haul ‘er straight over and hard to the right
the waters are clear and the sand it is white
old Mr. Stopford will set us alight
we’re bound for the Bay of Suvla

well the wind it is fair and the stars have aligned
we'll sell our salt cod for sweet olives and wine
and string up the Kaiser by thanksgiving time
we’re bound for the Bay of Suvla!