所属专辑:Voyage
歌手: Christy Moore
时长: 04:38
Farewell To Pripjat - Christy Moore[00:00:00]
It was a Friday in April 1986 [00:00:17]
The day that the nightmare began [00:00:22]
When the dust it rained down on our buildings and streets [00:00:27]
And entered our bedrooms at noon [00:00:32]
Touched the grass and the streets bicycles cars [00:00:36]
Beds books and picture frames too [00:00:42]
We stood around helpless confused [00:00:47]
Nobody knew what to do [00:00:52]
At two o'clock on Sunday the buses arrived [00:00:59]
A fleet of a thousand or more [00:01:04]
We were ordered to be on our way [00:01:09]
Not knowing what lay in store [00:01:14]
Some of our citizens fled in dismay [00:01:18]
And looked for a good place to hide [00:01:23]
Four o'clock came and the last bus pulled out [00:01:28]
T'was the day our lovely town died [00:01:33]
And the shirts sheets and handkerchiefs crack in the wind [00:01:41]
On the window ledge the withering plants [00:01:45]
And the Ladas and Volga's are parked by the door [00:01:50]
And the bike's in its usual stance [00:01:55]
Our evergreen trees lie withered and drooped [00:02:00]
They've poisoned our fertile land [00:02:05]
The streets speak a deafening silence [00:02:10]
Nothing stirs but the sand [00:02:16]
A visit back home is so eerie today [00:02:25]
A modern Pompeii on view [00:02:30]
To see all the old shops and the Forest Hotel [00:02:34]
And the Promyet Cinema too [00:02:40]
The mementos we gathered were all left behind [00:02:44]
Our Photos letters and cards [00:02:49]
The toys of our children untouchable now [00:02:54]
Toy soldiers left standing on guard [00:02:59]
So fare thee well Pripyat my home and my soul [00:03:07]
Your sorrow can know no relief [00:03:12]
A terrifying glimpse of the future you show [00:03:16]
Your children all scattered like geese [00:03:21]
The clothes line still sways but the owners long gone [00:03:26]
As the nomadic era returns [00:03:31]
The question in black and white blurred into grey [00:03:36]
The answer is too easy to learn [00:03:41]
And the shirts sheets and handkerchiefs crack in the wind [00:03:48]
On the window ledge the withering plants [00:03:53]
And the Ladas and Volga's are parked by the door [00:03:58]
And the bike's in its usual stance [00:04:03]
Our evergreen trees lie withered and drooped [00:04:08]
They've poisoned our fertile land [00:04:13]
The streets speak a deafening silence [00:04:18]
Nothing stirs but the sand[00:04:24]