Avançar para o leitorAvançar para o conteúdo principal
Country Foundry Records
Hear the poignant story of sacrifice, longing, and the immigrant journey with "Letters Across the Atlantic". From leaving the fog of Queenstown for decades of hard work in Brooklyn and London, to the bittersweet return home to the green hills of Ireland, this song captures the true spirit of traditional storytelling and modern Irish country music.

Featuring authentic Uilleann pipes, weeping fiddle, and raw raspy baritone vocals, this track speaks to anyone with roots across the sea.

🎧 Listen, reflect, and subscribe for weekly original Irish country songs, emigrant ballads, and acoustic folk tracks.

#IrishCountryMusic #IrishCountrySongs #CelticFolk #IrishBallad #FolkCountry
Transcrição
00:12I packed 19 winters in an old cardboard box
00:17Lord knows the fog in Queenstown was heavy as rocks
00:20Let my mother cry on that cold harbor stone
00:23Bored at a freighter bound for the great unknown
00:26Now I'm pouring concrete high above Brooklyn Town
00:30Where the noise never sleeps and the rain don't soak the ground
00:35Every dollar bill I folded and sent back on the mail
00:38Carried a little piece of home that never did set sail
00:41I kept telling the mirror, son, just one more year
00:44While the gray in my beard washed away every fear
00:47And oh, I'm across that dark Atlantic deep
01:22There's a great hell calling while the city tries to sleep
01:24Saying the work here is good, boys, ain't easier than you think
01:27Ain't no shame in the shovel, ain't no crime in the sweat
01:31Just the ghosts in my pocket hadn't settled up yet
01:35Every envelope sealed with a prayer and a tear
01:38Counting the winters, losing track of the year
01:41Looking at the harbor through a cracked window pane
01:44Waiting on a whistle that'll take me back again
01:47And oh, I'm across that dark Atlantic deep
01:53There's a great hell calling while the city tries to sleep
01:56Forty years of hammered iron in the cold and the rust
01:59He turned every young man's promise into immigrant
02:03Dice is where to come back before the fires burn up
02:06Lord, it's a long way home when you've got nowhere else to go
02:16Now I'm standing by the shoreline with an old wooden cane
02:19The green grass is waiting, but nobody knows my name
02:23The graves of the old folk are covered in stone
02:26I finally made it back just to stand here all alone
02:32I'm across that dark Atlantic deep
02:34There's a green hill crying where my old brother's sleep
02:38Forty years of hammered iron in the cold and the rust
02:41He turned every dream I carried into holy old dust
02:45He swore to come back before the fires burn up
02:48Lord, it's a long way home when you've got nowhere else to go
02:54Just a handful of letters and the ghosts left behind

Recomendado