Langue   

Homeless Brother

Don Mc Lean
Langue: anglais




Homeless Brother - Don Mc Lean - 1974

The song tells the story of a homeless man whom the protagonist calls his friend. The protagonist wonders where homeless people like his friend go, where they can escape the police and feel free. The lyrics describe the hardships of life on the streets, the envy of those with a roof over their heads, and the reality of poverty and the harshness of the rich. The chorus encourages one to live life to the fullest, despite the difficulties, and to cherish the friendship with the homeless brother.

The story of a song: Homeless Brother - Don McLean
https://radio.callmefred.com/en/song_story/homeless-brother-don-mclean/
I was walking by the graveyard late last Friday night
I heard somebody yelling, it sounded like a fight
It was just a drunken hobo dancing circles in the night
Pouring whiskey on the headstones in the blue moonlight
So often have I wondered where these homeless brothers go
Down into some hidden valley where their sorrows cannot show
Where the police cannot find them, where the wanted man can go
There's freedom when you're walking, even though you're walking slow


Smash your bottle on a gravestone and live while you can
That homeless brother is my friend


It's hard to be a pack rat, it's hard to be a 'bo
But living's so much harder where the heartless people go
Somewhere the dogs are barking and the children seem to know
That Jesus on the highway was a lost hobo
And they hear the holy silence of the temples in the hill
And they see the ragged tatters as another kind of frill
And they envy him the sunshine and they pity him the chill
And they're sad to do their living for some other kind of thrill


Smash your bottle on a gravestone and live while you can
That homeless brother is my friend


Somewhere there was a woman, somewhere there was a child
Somewhere there was a cottage where the marigolds grew wild
But somewhere's just like nowhere when you leave it for a while
You'll find the brokenhearted when you're traveling jungle style
Down the bowels of a broken land where numbers live like men
Where those who keep their senses have them taken back again
Where the nightstick cracks with crazy rage, where madmen don't pretend
Where wealth has no beginning and poverty no end


Smash your bottle on a gravestone and live while you can
That homeless brother is my friend


The ghosts of highway royalty have vanished in the night
The Whitman wanderer walking toward a glowing inner light
The children have grown older and the cops have gripped us tight
There's no spot 'round the melting pot for free men in their flight
And you who live on promises and prosper as you please
The victim of your riches often dies of your disease
He can't hear the factory whistle, just the lonesome freight train's wheeze
He's living on good fortune, he ain't dying on his knees


Smash your bottle on a gravestone and live while you can
That homeless brother is my friend

That homeless brother is my friend


****




envoyé par Pluck - 9/8/2024 - 20:40




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