Hoy es St. Patrick's Day (justo ahora he encontrado la canción con ese nombre de Gwendal).
No me gustan los santos.
Menos las fiestas ultra machacadas en todo el mundo.
Pero me gustan los tréboles.
Amo el verde.
Necesito ir a Irlanda desde que tengo memoria.
Y me encantan las Guinnes.
Lo único que he conseguido hoy es el verde, tampoco es dificil porque para empezar tengo trozos del pelo de ese color porque de siempre ha sido mi color favorito.
Pero no tengo ni Irlanda, ni tréboles, ni Guinnes...
En fin, algún año de verdad de la buena podré celebrar este día con más gente.
No me gustan los santos.
Menos las fiestas ultra machacadas en todo el mundo.
Pero me gustan los tréboles.
Amo el verde.
Necesito ir a Irlanda desde que tengo memoria.
Y me encantan las Guinnes.
Lo único que he conseguido hoy es el verde, tampoco es dificil porque para empezar tengo trozos del pelo de ese color porque de siempre ha sido mi color favorito.
Pero no tengo ni Irlanda, ni tréboles, ni Guinnes...
En fin, algún año de verdad de la buena podré celebrar este día con más gente.
Great Big Sea - Home For A Rest
You'll have to excuse me,
I'm not at my best
I've been gone for a month
I've been drunk since I left.
These so-called vacations will
Soon be my death
I'm so sick from the drink
I need home for a rest....
We arrived in December
And London was cold,
We stayed in the bars
Along Jarring cross road.
We never saw nothing
But brass-tops and nook.
Kept a shine on the bar
With the sleeves of our coats.
You'll have to excuse me,
I'm not at my best
I've been gone for a week
I've been drunk since I left.
These so-called vacations will
Soon be my death
I'm so sick from the drink
I need home for a rest....
Take me home!
Houston station
The train's heading North,
In the bucket car
We looked back and forth.
I stole crooked dice
Through Yorkshire's green fields
We were flung into dance
As the train jigged and reeled.
You'll have to excuse me,
I'm not at my best
I've been gone for a week
I've been drunk since I left.
These so-called vacations will
Soon be my death
I'm so sick from the drink
I need home for a rest....
Take me home!
By the light of the moon,
She drift through the streets,
A rare old perfume
So seductive and sweet
She teases and flirts
As the pubs all close down,
Then walk us on home
And deny us a round.
You'll have to excuse me,
I'm not at my best
I've been gone for a month
I've been drunk since I left.
These so-called vacations will
Soon be my death
I'm so sick from the drink
I need home for a rest....
Take me home!
The gas heat is empty
It's damn past two
The spirits we drank
Left ghosts in the room
I'm asking again
Come on, please take me soon,
And don't lift my head
Til the twelve bells at noon!
You'll have to excuse me,
I'm not at my best
I've been gone for a week
I've been drunk since I left.
These so-called vacations will
Soon be my death
I'm so sick from the drink
I need home for a rest....
Take me home!
You'll have to excuse me,
I'm not at my best
I've been gone for a month
I've been drunk since I left.
These so-called vacations will
Soon be my death
I'm so sick from the drink
I need home for a rest....
We arrived in December
And London was cold,
We stayed in the bars
Along Jarring cross road.
We never saw nothing
But brass-tops and nook.
Kept a shine on the bar
With the sleeves of our coats.
You'll have to excuse me,
I'm not at my best
I've been gone for a week
I've been drunk since I left.
These so-called vacations will
Soon be my death
I'm so sick from the drink
I need home for a rest....
Take me home!
Houston station
The train's heading North,
In the bucket car
We looked back and forth.
I stole crooked dice
Through Yorkshire's green fields
We were flung into dance
As the train jigged and reeled.
You'll have to excuse me,
I'm not at my best
I've been gone for a week
I've been drunk since I left.
These so-called vacations will
Soon be my death
I'm so sick from the drink
I need home for a rest....
Take me home!
By the light of the moon,
She drift through the streets,
A rare old perfume
So seductive and sweet
She teases and flirts
As the pubs all close down,
Then walk us on home
And deny us a round.
You'll have to excuse me,
I'm not at my best
I've been gone for a month
I've been drunk since I left.
These so-called vacations will
Soon be my death
I'm so sick from the drink
I need home for a rest....
Take me home!
The gas heat is empty
It's damn past two
The spirits we drank
Left ghosts in the room
I'm asking again
Come on, please take me soon,
And don't lift my head
Til the twelve bells at noon!
You'll have to excuse me,
I'm not at my best
I've been gone for a week
I've been drunk since I left.
These so-called vacations will
Soon be my death
I'm so sick from the drink
I need home for a rest....
Take me home!
Amo el disco recopilacion de punk irlandes para borracheras que tengo, me falta la borrachera... ains.
Ya me pasaras el tracklist k me lo baje k ya sabes que soy fan_!
yo celebré el dia de sant patrick bebiendo y vendiendo cerveza, como debe ser. Desperté al final de la linea de metro entre dos seguratas chicas, en medio de la puta nada.
ademas yo celebro san patricio y la gente de valencia la Ofrenda a la virgen, asi que hay ambiente por un tubo! pero hay petardos de esos que no nos gustan, eso si.