Текст песни «Quay Cur» от Fiery Furnaces, The

Представляем точный текст композиции "Quay Cur" и глубже погружаем в смыслы творчества артиста Fiery Furnaces, The . Эта интерпретация слов песни помогает лучше понять смысл заложенный в композицию. Лирика «Quay Cur» — это не просто строчки, а история, которую Fiery Furnaces, The передаёт через ритм и интонации. Изучайте переводы, оригинальные версии и толкования, чтобы раскрыть все грани этого трека.

Fiery Furnaces, The - "Quay Cur"

Lyrics to Quay Cur :

I had a locket, a little silver charm,



Given to me so to keep me out of harm.



Canvasing the quayside trying to earn my keep,



A killick tore it off my neck and threw it in the deep.



And now Ill never, never, never feel like I am safe again



And now Ill never, never, never feel like I am safe again



And now Ill never, never, never feel like I am safe again.



Up to the quarentine, late night aboard,



Try to raise our fees but we get what they afford.



Busy work below deck according to form;



Waiting for the clear to leave but then comes up a storm.



We hid beneath the barrels of blubber hoping that the rain had passed



But when the wind kept up the rats cut down the rigging off the mast



And then the rust chewed through the anchor chain and out to sea were cast.



The clouds dried and cracked



It was calm in fact



The ship had been towed,



By sea Dyaks towed



So were sold Kolaba



n sent -- I let out a sob, a



cry oh no its disaster -- T-Ranter Bay Madacascar.



Great gulps of Greek fire get us in;



Sling sticks at the stockade Fort Dauphin;



A guardsman gave a griffin said grease my duke:



Down by the chimney and out through the fluke.



A looby, a lordant, a lagerhead, lozel,



a lungio lathback made me a proposal:



Straight sail, top mast, astrolabe prospected



down in his dry dock erected infected;



Mocked up with silk strings and taffeta tricked



with nails out of driftwood already iron sicked:



now spy out the glass at whatever missteps me



and the press gang warrants signed Sir Edward Pepsi.



Course it wasnt long till I caught the croup,



Dawding on the drizzy deck of my majestys sloop.



If only the hlmsman would turn from his whip staff



With my azimuth compass Id go by the hectograph



Up to the whaling fleet in Gilbert sound



Then back in the hull when we come around



With 100 seats and 2 polar bears



Nearly in the harbor without any cares,



But then:



A looby, a lordant, a lagerhead, lozel,



a lungio lathback made me a proposal:



Straight sail, top mast, astrolabe prospected



down in his dry dock erected infected;



Mocked up with silk strings and taffeta tricked



with nails out of driftwood already iron sicked:



now spy out the glass at whatever missteps me



and the press gang warrants signed Sir Edward Pepsi.



Half hour sandglass



Seven saker round shot



Ice for the moonshine



And chichsaneg.



Canyglow, canyglow, canyglow dont say nugo



Tie tight my sugnacoon



In comes the tucktodo



Aba in aob aginyoh.



Look awennye



Get out my sawygmeg



Yliaout, yliaout



Weave us on shore



Unuiche quoysah



Maconmeg



And I gave a sasobneg.



Canyglow, canyglow, canyglow dont say nugo



Tie tight my sugnacoon



In comes the tucktodo



Aba in aob aginyoh.



And now we live by muskles, water weeds with small relief in store



And all the sick men in the Galean were then put upon the shore



And on the 22nd we didnt see our general any more.



Down came our trestle-trees, no pitch tar or nails;



Fore shrouds break no rope we trust;



Only shift of sails.



Drink my Rosa Solis; struck suddenly ahull



Yield ourselves we spoomed, my sinews stiff,



My eyes were dull.



And now Ill never, never, never feel like I am safe again



And now Ill never, never, never feel like I am safe again



And now Ill never, never, never feel like I am safe again.



And as we pass the equinoctial only 5 of us could stand



And while the capsten without sheets or tacks by all of us was manned



And on the 11th day of June ran in at Barehaven to land.
[ Quay Cur Lyrics  ]

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