Patti Smith

Patti Smith - Gung Ho songtekst

Je score:

On a field of red one gold star 

Raised above his head

Raised above his head

He was not like any other

He was just like any other 

And the song they bled 

Was a hymn to him 



Awake my little one

The seed of revolution

Sewn in the sleeve 

Of cloth humbly worn

Where others are adorned



Above the northern plain 

The great birds fly 

With great wings

Over the paddy fields

And the people kneel 

And the men they toil

Yet not for their own

And the children are hungry

And the wheel groans 



There before a grass hut

A young boy stood

His mother lay dead 

His sisters cried for bread

And within his young heart 

The seed of revolution sewn

In cloth humbly worn 

While others are adorned



And he grew into a man

Not like any other 

Just like any other

One small man

A beard the color of rice

A face the color of tea 

Who shared the misery

Of other men in chains

With shackles on his feet

Escaped the guillotine



Who fought against 

Colonialism imperialism

Who remained awake

While others slept

Who penned like Jefferson

Let independence ring

And the cart of justice turns

Slow and bitterly

And the people were crying

Plant that seed that seed 

And they crawled on their bellies

Beneath the giant beast

And filled the carts with bodies

Where once had been their crops



And the great birds swarm 

Spread their wings overhead

And his mother dead 

And the typhoons and the rain

The jungles in flames

And the orange sun

None could be more beautiful 

Than Vietnam

Nothing was more beautiful 

Than Vietnam



And his heart stopped beating

And the wheel kept turning 

And the words he bled

Were a hymn to them

I have served the whole people 

I have served my whole country

And as I leave this world 

May you suffer union

And my great affection 

Limitless as sky 

Filled with golden stars



The question is raised

Raised above his head

Was he of his word

Was he a good man

For his image fills the southern heart

With none but bitterness



And the people keep crying

And the men keep dying 

And it's so beautiful 

So beautiful

Give me one more turn 

Give me one more turn

One more turn of the wheel 



One more revolution

One more turn of the wheel
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Taal: Engels

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