Текст песни Skeletons of Quinto (The Folksmen) с переводом

I worked the fields my father worked

From dawn until setting sun

My calloused hands and wind-burned face

Have marked me as a man

Who has no voice, no rights, no hope

No place to call his own

And the skeletons of Quinto call me home

The silver tentacles of the moon’s rays caught me The deathly silence of the mountains chill me to the bone

And the skeletons of Quinto call me home

If I lived to be a hundred, I won’t know me Papa’s plight

The cruelty of the master’s whip

The horrors of the night

He braved them all and stood his ground

The bravest ever known

And the skeletons of Quinto call me home

(Spanish)

(Instrumental)

I know that somehow, in the world,

The workers must be free

The toil and sweat, and tyranny, the fascist jeu d’esprit

Will only serve to keep us down, and make the bourgeoisie

And the skeletons of Quinto call me home

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