Farewell to Pripchat Lyrics

Song	Farewell to Pripchat
Artist	Christy Moore
Album	Christy Moore - The Box Set 1964-2004
Download	Image LRC TXT

	作词 : Tim Dennehy
	作曲 : Tim Dennehy
	It was a Friday in April 1986
	The day that the nightmare began
	When the dust it rained down on our buildings and streets
	And entered our bedrooms at noon
	Touched the grass and the streets, bicycles, cars
	Beds books and picture frames too
	We stood around, helpless, confused
	Nobody knew what to do
	At two o'clock on Sunday the buses arrived
	A fleet of a thousand or more
	We were ordered to be on our way
	Not knowing what lay in store
	Some of our citizens fled in dismay
	And looked for a good place to hide
	Four o'clock came and the last bus pulled out
	T'was the day our lovely town died
	And the shirts sheets and handkerchiefs crack in the wind
	On the window ledge the withering plants
	And the Ladas and Volga's are parked by the door
	And the bike's in its usual stance
	Our evergreen trees lie withered and drooped
	They've poisoned our fertile land
	The streets speak a deafening silence
	Nothing stirs but the sand
	A visit back home is so eerie today
	A modern Pompeii on view
	To see all the old shops and the Forest Hotel
	And the Promyet Cinema too
	The mementos we gathered were all left behind
	Our Photos, letters and cards
	The toys of our children untouchable now
	Toy soldiers left standing on guard
	So fare thee well Pripyat, my home and my soul
	Your sorrow can know no relief
	A terrifying glimpse of the future you show
	Your children all scattered like geese
	The clothes line still sways but the owners long gone
	As the nomadic era returns
	The question in black and white blurred into grey
	The answer is too easy to learn

	zuo ci : Tim Dennehy
	zuo qu : Tim Dennehy
	It was a Friday in April 1986
	The day that the nightmare began
	When the dust it rained down on our buildings and streets
	And entered our bedrooms at noon
	Touched the grass and the streets, bicycles, cars
	Beds books and picture frames too
	We stood around, helpless, confused
	Nobody knew what to do
	At two o' clock on Sunday the buses arrived
	A fleet of a thousand or more
	We were ordered to be on our way
	Not knowing what lay in store
	Some of our citizens fled in dismay
	And looked for a good place to hide
	Four o' clock came and the last bus pulled out
	T' was the day our lovely town died
	And the shirts sheets and handkerchiefs crack in the wind
	On the window ledge the withering plants
	And the Ladas and Volga' s are parked by the door
	And the bike' s in its usual stance
	Our evergreen trees lie withered and drooped
	They' ve poisoned our fertile land
	The streets speak a deafening silence
	Nothing stirs but the sand
	A visit back home is so eerie today
	A modern Pompeii on view
	To see all the old shops and the Forest Hotel
	And the Promyet Cinema too
	The mementos we gathered were all left behind
	Our Photos, letters and cards
	The toys of our children untouchable now
	Toy soldiers left standing on guard
	So fare thee well Pripyat, my home and my soul
	Your sorrow can know no relief
	A terrifying glimpse of the future you show
	Your children all scattered like geese
	The clothes line still sways but the owners long gone
	As the nomadic era returns
	The question in black and white blurred into grey
	The answer is too easy to learn

	zuò cí : Tim Dennehy
	zuò qǔ : Tim Dennehy
	It was a Friday in April 1986
	The day that the nightmare began
	When the dust it rained down on our buildings and streets
	And entered our bedrooms at noon
	Touched the grass and the streets, bicycles, cars
	Beds books and picture frames too
	We stood around, helpless, confused
	Nobody knew what to do
	At two o' clock on Sunday the buses arrived
	A fleet of a thousand or more
	We were ordered to be on our way
	Not knowing what lay in store
	Some of our citizens fled in dismay
	And looked for a good place to hide
	Four o' clock came and the last bus pulled out
	T' was the day our lovely town died
	And the shirts sheets and handkerchiefs crack in the wind
	On the window ledge the withering plants
	And the Ladas and Volga' s are parked by the door
	And the bike' s in its usual stance
	Our evergreen trees lie withered and drooped
	They' ve poisoned our fertile land
	The streets speak a deafening silence
	Nothing stirs but the sand
	A visit back home is so eerie today
	A modern Pompeii on view
	To see all the old shops and the Forest Hotel
	And the Promyet Cinema too
	The mementos we gathered were all left behind
	Our Photos, letters and cards
	The toys of our children untouchable now
	Toy soldiers left standing on guard
	So fare thee well Pripyat, my home and my soul
	Your sorrow can know no relief
	A terrifying glimpse of the future you show
	Your children all scattered like geese
	The clothes line still sways but the owners long gone
	As the nomadic era returns
	The question in black and white blurred into grey
	The answer is too easy to learn

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