Your native language

عربي

Arabic

عربي

简体中文

Chinese

简体中文

Nederlands

Dutch

Nederlands

Français

French

Français

Deutsch

German

Deutsch

Italiano

Italian

Italiano

日本語

Japanese

日本語

한국인

Korean

한국인

Polski

Polish

Polski

Português

Portuguese

Português

Română

Romanian

Română

Русский

Russian

Русский

Español

Spanish

Español

Türk

Turkish

Türk

Українська

Ukrainian

Українська
User Avatar

Geluid


Koppel


Moeilijkheidsgraad


Accent



interfacetaal

nl

Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Cookie beleid   |   Steun   |   FAQ
1
registreren / inloggen
Lyrkit

doneren

5$

Lyrkit

doneren

10$

Lyrkit

doneren

20$

Lyrkit

En/of steun mij op sociaal gebied. netwerken:


Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Tom Paxton

On The Road From Srebrenica

 

On The Road From Srebrenica

(album: Live - For The Record - 1996)


On the road from Srebrenica,
I saw a woman with two babies and one broken arm.
She could only carry one,
And one would have to stay behind to quickly die.
The gunmen shouted orders,
And the woman started moving down the road,
While the baby in the blanket,
Lying in the muddy ditch began to cry.

On the road, on the road from Srebrenica,
Blackbirds fly, blackbirds flying overhead,
Cry no mercy, on the road from Srebrenica,
Where there´s no one left alive to count the dead.

On the road from Srebrenica,
I saw the men all pulled aside and marched away.
While their women screamed in terror,
All the men went down the pathway to the trees.
The sound of guns was muffled by the forest,
But the shots went on and on,
While the soldiers pushed the women to keep moving,
And the rain began to freeze.

On the road, on the road from Srebrenica,
Blackbirds fly, blackbirds flying overhead,
Cry no mercy, on the road from Srebrenica,
Where there´s no one left alive to count the dead.

On the road from Srebrenica,
Trudged an old men who was bent and stooped and frail.
It seemed all hope was gone,
I thought he´d never make a mile, but I was wrong.
He seemed to have no spirit,
Till he passed the ditch and heard the baby cry.
Then he picked the baby up,
And in the swirling smoke and flames, he moved along.

On the road, on the road from Srebrenica,
Blackbirds fly, blackbirds flying overhead,
Cry no mercy, on the road from Srebrenica,
Where there´s no one left alive to count the dead.

klaar

Heb je alle onbekende woorden uit dit nummer toegevoegd?