Текст песни Our Father's Sons (The Gaslight Anthem) с переводом

Help me sing

All you weary strangers raise your voice

In this chain gang chorus in our younger days

My brothers, we were naive sailors

Storms we’d all endure

Oh the road, oh you who sing her praises of dust and bones

The places that she takes us, the choice is ours

We wanted much more than our fathers

While our mothers said their prayers

Now we’re moving on up, to the east side

We finally got a piece of the pie, of the pie

Baby doll

All you women of the travelers, your empty arms

Your patient hearts in waiting, bless your hearts

And your never ending patience

I could not go on without you

We’re all the same

All blue and bright white collars, we’re all the same

Our troubles and our sorrows and underneath

Blood and bone and mixture

Though we dance to different songs

And your mama’s alright, your daddy’s alright

They just seem a little bit weird

Oh, surrender

Every man, every woman with a burden raise your hands

Raise’em up to the firmament, see those hands

Meet your brothers and your sisters, use your hands

We are our father’s sons

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