American Land
Bruce SpringsteenOriginale | Finalmente abbiamo trovato il testo completo della canzone dei... |
AMERICAN LAND What is this land of America, so many travel there I'm going now while I'm still young, my darling meet me there Wish me luck my lovely, I'll send for you when I can And we'll make our home in the American land Over there all the woman wear silk and satin to their knees And children dear, the sweets, I hear, are growing on the trees Gold comes rushing out the river straight into your hands If you make your home in the American land There's diamonds in the sidewalks, there's gutters lined in song Dear I hear that beer flows through the faucets all night long There's treasure for the taking, for any hard working man Who will make his home in the American land I docked at Ellis Island in a city of light and spire I wandered to the valley of red-hot steel and fire We made the steel that built the cities with the sweat of our two hands And I made my home in the American land There's diamonds in the sidewalk, there's gutters lined in song Dear I hear that beer flows through the faucets all night long There's treasure for the taking, for any hard working man Who will make his home in the American land The McNicholas, the Posalski's, the Smiths, Zerillis too The Blacks, the Irish, the Italians, the Germans and the Jews The Puerto Ricans, illegals, the Asians, Arabs miles from home Come across the water with a fire down below They died building the railroads, worked to bones and skin They died in the fields and factories, names scattered in the wind They died to get here a hundred years ago, they're dyin' now The hands that built the country we're all trying to keep down There's diamonds in the sidewalk, there's gutters lined in song Dear I hear that beer flows through the faucets all night long There's treasure for the taking, for any hard working man Who will make his home in the American land Who will make his home in the American land Who will make his home in the American land | AMERICAN LAND 'n vala la la domà par laorà fin a la sera 'n olta n' naeta a pe ades an và con la curiera la not 'n turna 'n dre e canta l becalegn la ca na faho hèmpar 'n de htà al de legn No olta na soi mùcc sui mùcc a fasa l fe fadighe po finide sagado tüto 'l de a la fi de la giornada 'n nea nataffo l brègn i sonaa soi senter i noh süpei de lègn 'na olta 'naa soi mucc po toc an galaria i boce ie füdic envece i vecc i vala mia le corne i già spetacc e 'n de ie gnicc a segn e ia faso la hò ca 'n de sta al de legn Argü le nacc 'n Francia la troat poca fortüna chi svelcc ie nac an hvisera e ià implinit la cüna l pö furbi ie stacc a baita a cantà col becalegn e ia faso la hò ca 'n de sta al de legn Ai morcc don San-Nadèr i pasado ance i viff ma qualcun i turna 'n dre 'n de let ie mia cariff la festa lìè finida e i vala 'n ver Malegn a harca 'n po de palanche 'n de sta al de legn Le he scürta le giornade ma 'ntat la cres la lüna al de de feraoht fae gia bordel don den 'na cüna 'l por camel la traffo de tàsca 'n bel desegn e la fasso la hò ca 'n de sta al de legn la cà l'è mia finida ma lü l'è già partit 'n notra galaria 'l la giamò scundit a sintit la cavra bedola al post del becalegn e lui le gnit a ca con den vistit de legn e lui le gnit a ca con den vistit de legn |