Study war no more
Lay down your arms
Study war no more
Lay 'em down lay 'em down now
Study war no more
Lay down your arms
Study war no more
Newsreels rattle the Nazi dread
The able-bodied have shipped away
Molly McGee gets her tea-leaves read
You'll be married in a month they say
"These leaves are crazy!
Look at this town there's no men left!
Just frail old boys and babies
Talking to teacher in the treble clef"
She plants her garden in the spring
She does the winter shovelling
Tokyo Rose on the radio
She says she's leavin' but she don't go
Out of the blue just passin' thru
A young flight sergeant
On two weeks leave
Says "Molly McGee no one else will do!"
And seals the tea-leaf prophecy
Oh these nights are strong and soft
Private passions and secret storms
Nothin' about him ticks her off
And he looks so cute in his uniform
She plants her garden in the spring
He does the winter shovelling
But summer's just a sneeze
In a long long bad winter cold
She says "I'm leavin' here" but she don't go
"Sleep little darlin'!
This is your happy home
Hiroshima cannot be pardoned!
Don't have kids when you get grown
Because this world is shattered
The wise are mourning
The fools are joking
Oh what does it matter?
The wash needs ironing
And the fire needs stoking"
She plants her garden in the spring
He does the winter shovelling
The three of 'em laughing 'round the radio
She says "I'm leavin' here" but she don't go
She plants her garden in the spring
They do the winter shovelling
They sit up late and watch the
Johnny Carson show
She says "I'm leavin' here" but she don't go
Lay down your arms
Study war no more
Lay 'em down lay 'em down now
Study war no more
Lay down your arms
Study war no more
Newsreels rattle the Nazi dread
The able-bodied have shipped away
Molly McGee gets her tea-leaves read
You'll be married in a month they say
"These leaves are crazy!
Look at this town there's no men left!
Just frail old boys and babies
Talking to teacher in the treble clef"
She plants her garden in the spring
She does the winter shovelling
Tokyo Rose on the radio
She says she's leavin' but she don't go
Out of the blue just passin' thru
A young flight sergeant
On two weeks leave
Says "Molly McGee no one else will do!"
And seals the tea-leaf prophecy
Oh these nights are strong and soft
Private passions and secret storms
Nothin' about him ticks her off
And he looks so cute in his uniform
She plants her garden in the spring
He does the winter shovelling
But summer's just a sneeze
In a long long bad winter cold
She says "I'm leavin' here" but she don't go
"Sleep little darlin'!
This is your happy home
Hiroshima cannot be pardoned!
Don't have kids when you get grown
Because this world is shattered
The wise are mourning
The fools are joking
Oh what does it matter?
The wash needs ironing
And the fire needs stoking"
She plants her garden in the spring
He does the winter shovelling
The three of 'em laughing 'round the radio
She says "I'm leavin' here" but she don't go
She plants her garden in the spring
They do the winter shovelling
They sit up late and watch the
Johnny Carson show
She says "I'm leavin' here" but she don't go
envoyé par Renato Stecca - 19/4/2009 - 11:47
×
![]()
Album: "Chalk Mark In A Rainstorm"
Scritta da Joni Mitchell e Larry Klein
Azzardo un'interpretazione... e "se mi sbalio mi corrigerete!"
La giovane e bella Molly McGee è rimasta sola, proprio come tante altre ragazze inglesi, perchè tutti i ragazzi sono partiti per la guerra, quella contro i nazisti. Eppure Molly legge nelle foglie (o nei fondi) del tè che proprio lei andrà in sposa entro un mese. “’ste foglie sono pazze!”, commenta, “Guarda questa povera città: non è rimasto nessun uomo, solo vecchi e bambini!”. Ma ecco passare un giovane sergente pilota, e la profezia si avvera.
Probabilmente la storia dei genitori della Mitchell, lei che nacque nel 1943, proprio nel bel mezzo della seconda guerra mondiale. La madre, Myrtle McKee, si chiamava quasi come la protagonista del brano, ed il padre era un ufficiale della Royal Canadian Air Force.... Una storia d’amore come tante, due piccole vite che si intrecciano, la vita che si rigenera nonostante la guerra e la morte che stanno minacciose sullo sfondo, nelle agenzie che battono le notizie dei “blitzkrieg” di Hitler, nelle voci delle “Tokio Roses”, le portavoci della propaganda giapponese che dalla radio, in lingua inglese, cercavano di “fiaccare il morale delle truppe” alleate impegnate nel Pacifico, nell’eco dell’enormità imperdonabile della tragedia di Hiroshima... Sarebbe molto meglio non mettere al mondo bambini in un mondo così orribile, un mondo dove non c’è più posto per la saggezza e regna la follia...
Ma, in fondo, cosa importa? Il bucato deve essere stirato ed il fuoco deve essere alimentato... La vita va avanti.... Mentre dalla radio arrivano le risate dei vincitori, di Stalin, Churchill e Roosevelt che a Jalta si spartiscono il mondo (o quel che ne è rimasto)...
(Bernart)