Claymore - Ballad of Bobby Sands | Текст песни

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• Claymore
• Ballad of Bobby Sands

On a grave in Belfast,
Shone a ray of gold light,
A voice spoke from the death,
And echoed in the night,
I'm far from captivity
That cell which confined me,
Neither pain or torture,
Are the powers that consigns me.

My name is Bobby Sands,
I fought and died for dear land,
With Joe and Francis at my side,
My comrades on hunger strike they die.

From this dark grave I can see,
My country yet is still unfree,
From many years of great despair,
Many broken hearts now have yearned,
Deprived of freedom men like me,
Are in prisons with no dignity.

My name is Bobby Sands,
I fought and died for dear land,
With Joe and Francis at my side,
My comrades on hunger strike they die.

England with her wasted breath,
My land you levelled and lust to death,
Like the river than runs from my land,
The blood runs through your icy hands,
And reflected in the cloudless sky,
Will be the freedom's light for those who died.

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