Lingua   

Eleven Cent Cotton, Forty Cent Meat

Bob Miller
Lingua: Inglese


Ti può interessare anche...

The Rich Man and the Poor Man
(Bob Miller)
Serenata de Villa Miseria
(Gustavo "Cuchi" Leguizamón)


[1932]
Parole e musica di Bob Miller (1895-1955), cantautore country originario di Memphis, Tennessee.
Testo trovato su Folk Archive
Trovo il brano, interpretato dalla band di Bob Miller, nella raccolta “Songs For Political Action - Folk Music And The American Left 1926 – 1953” pubblicata nel 1996 dalla tedesca Bear Family Records

Songs For Political Action

Sta anche nel repertorio di Carson Jay Robison (1890-1957), importante country singer e songwriter.

Great Depression. “Hooverville”, Seattle, 1932-1937 (“Hooverville”, dal nome del presidente Herbert Clark Hoover, in carica dal 1929 al 1933, era il nome dato alle baraccopoli che sorsero ai margini di tutte le grandi città statunitensi in quegli anni)
Great Depression. “Hooverville”, Seattle, 1932-1937 (“Hooverville”, dal nome del presidente Herbert Clark Hoover, in carica dal 1929 al 1933, era il nome dato alle baraccopoli che sorsero ai margini di tutte le grandi città statunitensi in quegli anni)


Ancora una canzone composta negli anni più duri della Grande Depressione: “A cinque centesimi si vende il cotone e quaranta costa la carne: come diavolo può mangiare un pover’uomo? A Washington sono grassi e sazi, mentre noi qui stiamo morendo affamati dalle loro promesse e dalle loro balle. E l’unica cosa piena è la prigione della contea…”
'leven cent cotton used to wrinkle my brow,
But, oh good Lord, look what it's at now!
We've gone in debt way past our ears,
Ain't had a square meal in the last four years!
Ain't felt no money in such a long time,
I'd feel that I was rich if I had a thin dime!
There's no use talkin' any man's beat
With five cent cotton and forty cent meat!

Five cent cotton and forty cent meat,
How in the hell can a poor man eat?
Votin' time is comin', and just watch us all,
You can bet your hide there'll be a change somewhere this fall!
Past four years have been mighty bad,
Had to tighten up our belts and our clothes look sad.
There's no use talkin' any man's beat
With five cent cotton and forty cent meat!

Five cent cotton and forty cent meat,
How in the hell can a poor man eat?
Just look me over and you can see
That a good square meal is gonna kill poor me!
In Washington they eat the corn while we get the cob,
But after next election someone will be lookin' for a job!
There's no use talkin' any man's beat
With five cent cotton and forty cent meat!

Five cent cotton and forty cent meat,
How in the hell can a poor man eat?
The folks up in Washington are fat and full
While we've been starvin' on promises and bull!
And wasn't we promised a dinner pail?
But the only thing that's full is our county jail!
There's no use talkin' any man's beat
With five cent cotton and forty cent meat!

Five cent cotton and forty cent meat,
How in the hell can a poor man eat?
The harder we work the less we have;
We know the farm relief has been a lot of salve!
When our clothes wear out we'll all go nude,
But what are we gonna substitute instead of food?
There's no use talkin' any man's beat
With five cent cotton and forty cent meat!

Ain't no use a-talkin', we're gonna make a change,
There's always a liniment for every mangy.
The liniment for hard times is castin' my vote
And gettin' rid of them who rocks the boat.
We've all been fools, when times were good
But now we gotta think as we should!
There's no use talkin' any man's beat
With five cent cotton that's impossible to eat!

inviata da Bernart Bartleby - 15/4/2015 - 09:18


Pagina principale CCG

Segnalate eventuali errori nei testi o nei commenti a antiwarsongs@gmail.com




hosted by inventati.org