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Emily

Peggy Seeger
Language: English



[1978]
Parole e musica di Peggy Seeger
Nell’album “Hot Blast”, con Ewan MacColl

Hot Blast

“This song is based on the experience of a woman who spent eighteen months in a battered wives’ refuge in south London, awaiting the decision of the courts and the council to rehouse her.” (Peggy Seeger)
Once we were single, once we were young
Once we were happy, husband and wife
But fourteen years married, thirteen years harried
Now I don't care what comes of my life.

The first time he lifted his hand against me
He knew the blow was hurtful and wrong
He said he was sorry put his arms round me
Sorry, love, sorry, all the night long.

The next time he lifted his fist against me
I thought I'd provoked him, I was to blame
The next time, the next time, and the time after
I told no one ‘cause I was ashamed.

When anything crossed him, I got his fist,
If dinner was late he slapped me around
With begging and pleading, stitches and bleeding
Nothing would do till I'm on the ground

My mom come round, she seen I was crying
Seen I was cut and bruised round the eyes
My husband turned round, all smilin' and charming
Says, “All she does is spend and tell lies.”

He said I was out with men every day
He locked me indoors and tore up my clothes
My friend heard me screaming, never come near
Why did I stay with him? God only knows.

If I go quiet, that makes him rage
If I turn and run, he's hunting me down
I says, “Why do you hit me?” He hit me for asking
Whatever I do, I'm down on the ground.

Each afternoon, my heart would start trembling
I followed his journey all the way home
His step at the door would nearly dissolve me
When he walked in, my judgment was come

I know there's two sides to every question
I may be wrong and he may be right
But he's got just two ways to settle a quarrel
One is his left, the other his right.

The doctor said he needs my understanding
The police seldom challenge a man in his home
Everyone knows him, no one defends me
After the altar, a wife's on her own.

I wander, I cry, I pray, I may die
I walk up to strangers to talk in the road
Three kids and no money, so how can I leave him?
I loose my kids if I've got no home.

Sometimes he's loving, sometimes he's caring
Sometimes it seems our marriage may mend
And then in the night I'm lying and wondering,
How soon will his fists be at me again?

The last time he hit me he nearly killed me
I thought I was dead and glad to be free
I gathered the kids up and went to a refuge
He grabbed a crowbar and come after me

When I go out I see him behind me
Three times I've moved, he's found me again
If I kill myself, at least I'll die easy
At least I'll know why, at least I'l know when.

The refuge is bare, the floors and walls echo
Nothing reminds me of comfort or home
But here I can sleep and here I can rest
Here I have friends, I'm no longer alone.

Contributed by Bernart Bartleby - 2018/5/3 - 14:03



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