You have heard them sing of Jesse and William Bonney, too.
But I, the bold vaquero, now I will sing to you.
Good Lord made the mountains, the Good Lord made the sea
The Good Lord made me promise to rob the Santa Fe.
I am the pride of Northern Mexico.
Riding down the canyon, I ride both day and night,
And I will jump the mail train out in the broad daylight.
Standing by the main line, chopping down a tree,
The train is in a hurry, but I think she'll stop for me.
I am the pride of Northern Mexico.
Hear the whistle screaming, the conductor pulls the cord,
I ride up to the platform and pull myself aboard.
I light my firecrackers and throw them all around,
Their guns fly out the window and fall upon the ground.
I am the pride of Northern Mexico.
“Good morning, baggage master, oh can you tell me please,
Do you have the combination, or do you have the keys?
Hand me down your silver, hand me down your gold,
I wish to live in splendor before I am too old.”
I am the pride of Northern Mexico.
“Thank you baggage master, please lie upon the floor,
I will go up to the parlor car and rob and loot some more.
Oh tell me Señorita, where did you hide your rings?
I think that you have dropped them inside your pretty things.”
I am the pride of Northern Mexico.
“I see you are a farmer by the blisters on your hands,
I would take the time to rob you, but I have other plans.
Greetings, Señor Banker! I hope you made your will;
I give you back your billfold and watch you eat the bills.”
I am the pride of Northern Mexico.
“Señores and Señoritas, I trouble you no more,
It has been my humble privilege to even up the score.
And now I ride off jingling through this green and pleasant land,
Am I not a dashing figure as I cross the Rio Grande?”
I am the pride of Northern Mexico.
But I, the bold vaquero, now I will sing to you.
Good Lord made the mountains, the Good Lord made the sea
The Good Lord made me promise to rob the Santa Fe.
I am the pride of Northern Mexico.
Riding down the canyon, I ride both day and night,
And I will jump the mail train out in the broad daylight.
Standing by the main line, chopping down a tree,
The train is in a hurry, but I think she'll stop for me.
I am the pride of Northern Mexico.
Hear the whistle screaming, the conductor pulls the cord,
I ride up to the platform and pull myself aboard.
I light my firecrackers and throw them all around,
Their guns fly out the window and fall upon the ground.
I am the pride of Northern Mexico.
“Good morning, baggage master, oh can you tell me please,
Do you have the combination, or do you have the keys?
Hand me down your silver, hand me down your gold,
I wish to live in splendor before I am too old.”
I am the pride of Northern Mexico.
“Thank you baggage master, please lie upon the floor,
I will go up to the parlor car and rob and loot some more.
Oh tell me Señorita, where did you hide your rings?
I think that you have dropped them inside your pretty things.”
I am the pride of Northern Mexico.
“I see you are a farmer by the blisters on your hands,
I would take the time to rob you, but I have other plans.
Greetings, Señor Banker! I hope you made your will;
I give you back your billfold and watch you eat the bills.”
I am the pride of Northern Mexico.
“Señores and Señoritas, I trouble you no more,
It has been my humble privilege to even up the score.
And now I ride off jingling through this green and pleasant land,
Am I not a dashing figure as I cross the Rio Grande?”
I am the pride of Northern Mexico.
envoyé par Bernart Bartleby - 28/5/2014 - 15:40
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Parole di Utah Phillips.
La melodia è quella di una “ranchera” composta da Hoyle Osborne, poliedrico pianista e compositore.
Nel songbook “Starlight On The Rails and Others Songs – The Golden Voice of the Great Southwest”, raccolta di canzoni scritte da Bruce ‘Utah’ Phillips tra anni 60 e primi 70.
“Here's a different kind of bandit. Northern Mexico is that part of Mexico north of the Rio Grande: Texas, New Mexico, California, Utah, Nevada, and Colorado. That's the half of the infant republic of Mexico which we stole in 1847, during the first of our imperialist wars.
The people who were left behind became virtual slaves. They were disfranchised, they lost their wealth, they lost their land, they lost everything. It's their descendants who are living on the back sides of the cities in the slums, and who are working as migrants in the fields.
This song is about a wise-ass Mexican bandit who sets out to get some of it back. He's a train robber. The tune Hoyle Osborne made up is like a ranchera, which is Mexican hillbilly music.”
“Dopo Jesse James, ecco un altro bandito. Il Messico del nord era quella parte del Messico a nord del Rio Grande, che oggi coincide con parti del Texas, del New Mexico, della California, dell’Utah, del Nevada e del Colorado. Insomma, la metà dell’originaria repubblica messicana che noi statunitensi abbiamo rubato nel 1847, durante la prima delle nostre guerre imperialiste.
La gente che viveva da quelle parti venne ridotta in schiavitù, perse tutto: diritti, proprietà, terre, tutto. Sono i loro discendenti quelli che vivono negli slum delle grandi città, che campano come migranti lavorando i campi. Questa canzone è su un bandito messicano che la sa lunga e che ha deciso di riprendersi indietro qualcosa di ciò che gli è stato tolto. Infatti è un rapinatore di treni.”(Utah Phillips)