C&H Cultuur & Historie
Van Soemerië tot Moskovië en van de Gouden Eeuw tot de Slag bij de Somme. Je vindt het in dit forum.
Arschkriecherquote:Op dinsdag 30 maart 2004 21:21 schreef Bio_Bastard het volgende:
[..]
You Should Have Seen Them Kicking Edgar Allan Poe
Mooi Duits, is niet lelijkquote:Op dinsdag 30 maart 2004 22:23 schreef Price het volgende:
[..]
Arschkriecher
Torpedo los!
Hoch über den Wellen ob tief unter dem Meer
vorwärts in ständigem Sturm hinterher.
So wie der Haifisch da seien sie Blut,
suchen wir sie die Feiendliche Brut
Nichts kann uns halten wir trotzen Gewalten
Gruß unserm Land U-Bootsoldat
Wir zeigen uns würdig dem neuen Geschlecht
kennen den Weg unser Eisernes Recht
Der Heimat zum Schutze vor Sturm und Orkan
Der Glaube an Deutschland erhellt unsre Bahn
Reißt es empor uns mit starker Hand
wir kränkeln nicht Engeland
Und wenn du auch gehst bis ans bis ende der Welt
wird dir von uns dein Weg verstellt.
Die Menschheit betrügt damit ist es vorbei,
wir brechen dem Löwen die Kiele entzwei
Nun hört in den weiten der Ruf ist so groß
wenn der Ruf erschallt Torpedo Los!
Hermann Löns, 1866-1914
1. Heute wollen wir ein Liedlein singen,
Trinken wollen wir den kühlen Wein
Und die Gläser sollen dazu klingen,
Denn es muß, es muß geschieden sein.
Refrain:
Gib' mir deine Hand, deine weiße Hand,
Leb' wohl, mein Schatz, leb' wohl mein Schatz,
Leb' wohl, lebe wohl
Denn wir fahren, denn wir fahren,
Denn wir fahren gegen Engeland, Engeland.
2. Unsre Flagge und die wehet auf dem Maste,
Sie verkündet unsres Reiches Macht,
Denn wir wollen es nicht länger leiden,
Daß der Englischmann darüber lacht.
Refrain:
3. Kommt die Kunde, daß ich bin gefallen,
Daß ich schlafe in der Meeresflut,
Weine nicht um mich, mein Schatz, und denke:
Für das Vaterland da floß sein Blut.
Refrain:
1. Heute wollen wir ein Liedlein singen,
Trinken wollen wir den kühlen Wein
Und die Gläser sollen dazu klingen,
Denn es muß, es muß geschieden sein.
Refrain:
Gib' mir deine Hand, deine weiße Hand,
Leb' wohl, mein Schatz, leb' wohl mein Schatz,
Leb' wohl, lebe wohl
Denn wir fahren, denn wir fahren,
Denn wir fahren gegen Engeland, Engeland.
2. Unsre Flagge und die wehet auf dem Maste,
Sie verkündet unsres Reiches Macht,
Denn wir wollen es nicht länger leiden,
Daß der Englischmann darüber lacht.
Refrain:
3. Kommt die Kunde, daß ich bin gefallen,
Daß ich schlafe in der Meeresflut,
Weine nicht um mich, mein Schatz, und denke:
Für das Vaterland da floß sein Blut.
Refrain:
Jawohl Herr Kaloin!
eigenlijk een scoutingliedje, maar britse soldaten in wo1 zongen niet anders:
We're Here Because We're Here
We're here because we're here because we're here because we're here.
We're here because we're here because we're here, because we're here.
en nee ik neem jullie niet in de maling
We're Here Because We're Here
We're here because we're here because we're here because we're here.
We're here because we're here because we're here, because we're here.
en nee ik neem jullie niet in de maling
opinions are like assholes. they all stink except for mine, which smells like roses
Tipparary-Song
Up to mighty London came an Irishman one day,
As the streets were paved with gold, sure ev´ry one was gay,
Singing songs of Picadilly, Strand and Leicester Square,
Till Paddy got excited, then she shouted to them there
Refrain:
It´s a long way to Tipparary,
it´s a long way to go.
It´s a long way to Tipparary,
to the sweetest girl I know.
Goodbye Piccadilly,
farewell Leicester Square.
It´s a long long way to Tipparary,
but my heart is right there.
Paddy wrote a letter to his Irish Molly O´,
Saying „Should you not receive it, write and let me know!
If I make mistakes in spelling, Molly dear“, said he,
„Remember, it’s the pen that’s bad, dont´t lay the blame on me.“
Refr.
Molly wrote a neat reply to Irish Paddy O´,
Saying „Mike Maloney wants to marry me, and so,
Leave the Strand and Picadilly, or you´ll be to blame,
For love has fairly drove me silly – hoping you´re the same!“
Refr.
Up to mighty London came an Irishman one day,
As the streets were paved with gold, sure ev´ry one was gay,
Singing songs of Picadilly, Strand and Leicester Square,
Till Paddy got excited, then she shouted to them there
Refrain:
It´s a long way to Tipparary,
it´s a long way to go.
It´s a long way to Tipparary,
to the sweetest girl I know.
Goodbye Piccadilly,
farewell Leicester Square.
It´s a long long way to Tipparary,
but my heart is right there.
Paddy wrote a letter to his Irish Molly O´,
Saying „Should you not receive it, write and let me know!
If I make mistakes in spelling, Molly dear“, said he,
„Remember, it’s the pen that’s bad, dont´t lay the blame on me.“
Refr.
Molly wrote a neat reply to Irish Paddy O´,
Saying „Mike Maloney wants to marry me, and so,
Leave the Strand and Picadilly, or you´ll be to blame,
For love has fairly drove me silly – hoping you´re the same!“
Refr.
opinions are like assholes. they all stink except for mine, which smells like roses
het bewijs dat duitsers na 1945 ook nog best graag samen een deuntje zingen :
Von der Bundeswehr-Uni kommen wir
Abwandlung von "Von den blauen Bergen kommen wir" ...
und in Gifhorn sind wir heute gerne hier,
lassen unsre Stimmen klingen,
um ein Liedchen hier zu singen, ...
und ein jeder von uns ist ein Offizier,
außer Tag und Nacht studieren,
können wir auch noch marschieren, ...
uns’re Prof’s die sind genauso schlau wie wir,
schreiben Unsinn an die Tafel,
und verbreiten viel Geschwafel, ...
trinken auch mal gerne eine Flasche Bier,
was der Kanzler kann vertragen,
das bekommt auch unser’m Magen, ...
meine Freundin stieß mich gestern vor die Tür,
doch das Leben das geht weiter,
wir marschieren froh und heiter, ...
lauter nette Mädel’s sehen wir heut’ hier,
Susi, Vroni und Anette,
blonde, schwarze und brünette, ...
und marschier’n in fernem Lande hier,
einmal auf und einmal nieder,
singen dabei fröhlich Lieder, ...
und wir fragen uns was machen wir bloß hier,
liegen halbkaputt im Rasen
und verarzten uns’re Blasen, ...
haben alle eine ganz besond’re Gier,
so ein Kasten voller Weizen,
ja der würde uns jetzt reizen, ...
und verbreiten stets nur Freude im Revier,
während and’re eilig wetzen,
wissen wir den Spaß zu schätzen, ...
laufen stets nur in der artigsten Manier,
drehen schnaufend uns’re Runde,
mit dem Schweiße stets im Bunde, ...
alle sind wir tapfer wie ein Stier,
mit der Waffe in der Hand,
kämpfen wir für’s Vaterland, ...
und ich will ganz schnell zurück zu Dir,
habe Sehnsucht nach Mathilde,
ja das ist eine ganz wilde, ...
keine and’ren trinken ähnlich viel wie wir,
trinken morgens und am Abend,
uns am Gerstensafte labend, ...
sind beim Essen wirklich selten pünktlich hier,
tut’s dem Chef dann nicht gefallen,
hören wir den Anschiss hallen, ...
sind für manche nur ein seltsames Getier,
lassen auch das Bier mal ploppen,
um die anderen zu foppen, ...
seh’n die Sanis wieder freundlich grinsend hier,
ja sie wetzen ihre Messer,
uns’re Stimmung wird gleich besser, ...
steh’n für die Navy sogar gerne mal Spalier,
laufen schneller als die and’ren,
weil wir ja so gerne wandern, ...
und die eine Sache, die verprech’ ich Dir,
werd’n auch morgen wieder traben,
wenn die anderen noch klagen, ...
und wir sangen heute wirklich gerne hier,
doch das Liedchen ist jetzt aus,
und wir hoffen auf Applaus, ...
Von der Bundeswehr-Uni kommen wir
Abwandlung von "Von den blauen Bergen kommen wir" ...
und in Gifhorn sind wir heute gerne hier,
lassen unsre Stimmen klingen,
um ein Liedchen hier zu singen, ...
und ein jeder von uns ist ein Offizier,
außer Tag und Nacht studieren,
können wir auch noch marschieren, ...
uns’re Prof’s die sind genauso schlau wie wir,
schreiben Unsinn an die Tafel,
und verbreiten viel Geschwafel, ...
trinken auch mal gerne eine Flasche Bier,
was der Kanzler kann vertragen,
das bekommt auch unser’m Magen, ...
meine Freundin stieß mich gestern vor die Tür,
doch das Leben das geht weiter,
wir marschieren froh und heiter, ...
lauter nette Mädel’s sehen wir heut’ hier,
Susi, Vroni und Anette,
blonde, schwarze und brünette, ...
und marschier’n in fernem Lande hier,
einmal auf und einmal nieder,
singen dabei fröhlich Lieder, ...
und wir fragen uns was machen wir bloß hier,
liegen halbkaputt im Rasen
und verarzten uns’re Blasen, ...
haben alle eine ganz besond’re Gier,
so ein Kasten voller Weizen,
ja der würde uns jetzt reizen, ...
und verbreiten stets nur Freude im Revier,
während and’re eilig wetzen,
wissen wir den Spaß zu schätzen, ...
laufen stets nur in der artigsten Manier,
drehen schnaufend uns’re Runde,
mit dem Schweiße stets im Bunde, ...
alle sind wir tapfer wie ein Stier,
mit der Waffe in der Hand,
kämpfen wir für’s Vaterland, ...
und ich will ganz schnell zurück zu Dir,
habe Sehnsucht nach Mathilde,
ja das ist eine ganz wilde, ...
keine and’ren trinken ähnlich viel wie wir,
trinken morgens und am Abend,
uns am Gerstensafte labend, ...
sind beim Essen wirklich selten pünktlich hier,
tut’s dem Chef dann nicht gefallen,
hören wir den Anschiss hallen, ...
sind für manche nur ein seltsames Getier,
lassen auch das Bier mal ploppen,
um die anderen zu foppen, ...
seh’n die Sanis wieder freundlich grinsend hier,
ja sie wetzen ihre Messer,
uns’re Stimmung wird gleich besser, ...
steh’n für die Navy sogar gerne mal Spalier,
laufen schneller als die and’ren,
weil wir ja so gerne wandern, ...
und die eine Sache, die verprech’ ich Dir,
werd’n auch morgen wieder traben,
wenn die anderen noch klagen, ...
und wir sangen heute wirklich gerne hier,
doch das Liedchen ist jetzt aus,
und wir hoffen auf Applaus, ...
opinions are like assholes. they all stink except for mine, which smells like roses
En nadat de komst van de VS maar uitbleef en maar uitbleef en de soldaten aan het front nog steeds bij bosjes stierven en de VS vredesvoorstellen begon te doen werd het door de frontsoldaten verbasterd tot:quote:Op maandag 22 maart 2004 23:17 schreef Captain_Chaos het volgende:
Over There
Chorus
Over there, over there,
Send the word, send the word over there -
That the Yanks are coming,
The Yanks are coming,
The drums rum-tumming
Ev'rywhere.
So prepare, say a pray'r,
Send the word, send the word to beware.
We'll be over, we're coming over,
And we won't come back till it's over
Over there.
Over there, over there,
Send the word, send the word over there -
That the Yanks are coming,
The Yanks are coming
[...]
They'll be over, They're coming over,
And they won't come over till it's over
Over there.
Op woensdag 24 sept. 2008 schreef Danny het volgende:
Dagonet doet onaardig tegen iedereen. Je bent dus helemaal niet zo bijzonder als je denkt...
Mijn grootste bijdrage aan de FP.
Dagonet doet onaardig tegen iedereen. Je bent dus helemaal niet zo bijzonder als je denkt...
Mijn grootste bijdrage aan de FP.
Uit de War of the States:
Richmond is a Hard Road to Travel
by Anonymous
Would you like to hear my song? I'm afraid it's rather long,
Of the famous "On to Richmond" double trouble;
Of the half a dozen trips and half a dozen slips
And the very latest bursting of the bubble.
'Tis pretty hard to sing and, like a round, round ring,
'Tis a dreadful knotty puzzle to unravel;
Though all the papers swore, when we touched Virginia's shore,
That Richmond was a hard road to travel.
Then pull off your overcoat and roll up your sleeve,
For Richmond is a hard road to travel.
Then pull off your overcoat and roll up your sleeve,
For Richmond is a hard road to travel, I believe.
First McDowell, bold and gay, set forth the shortest way
By Manassas in the pleasant summer weather
But unfortunately ran on a Stonewall (foolish man!)
And had a rocky journey altogether.
And he found it rather hard to ride over Beauregard
And Johnston proved a deuce of a bother.
'Twas clear beyond a doubt that he didn't like the route
And a second time would have to try another.
Then pull off your overcoat and roll up your sleeve,
For Manassas is a hard road to travel.
Manassas gave us fits, and Bull Run made us grieve,
For Richmond is a hard road to travel, I believe.
Next came the Wooly Horse with an overwhelming force
To march down to Richmond by the Valley,
But he couldn't find the road, and his onward movement showed
His campaigning was a mere shilly-shally.
Then Commissary Banks, with his motley foreign ranks
Kicking up a great noise, fuss, and flurry,
Lost the whole of his supplies and with tears in his eyes
From the Stonewall ran away in a hurry.
Then pull off your overcoat and roll up your sleeve,
For the Valley is a hard road to travel.
The Valley wouldn't do, and we all had to leave,
For Richmond is a hard road to travel, I believe.
Then the great Galena came, with her portholes all aflame,
And the Monitor, that famous naval wonder,
But the guns at Drury's Bluff gave them speedily enough
The loudest sort of reg'lar Rebel thunder.
The Galena was astonished and the Monitor admonished,
Our patent shot and shell were mocked at,
While the dreadful Naugatuck, by the hardest kind of luck,
Was knocked into an ugly cocked hat.
Then pull off your overcoat and roll up your sleeve,
For James River is a hard road to travel.
The gunboats gave up in terror and despair,
For Richmond is a hard road to travel, I declare.
Then McClellan followed soon, both with spade and balloon,
To try the Peninsular approaches,
But one and all agreed that his best rate of speed
Was no faster than the slowest of slow coaches.
Instead of easy ground, at Williamsburg he found
A Longstreet indeed and nothing shorter.
And it put him in the dumps that spades wasn't trumps
And the Hills he couldn't level "as he orter!"
Then pull off your overcoat and roll up your sleeve,
For Longstreet is a hard road to travel.
Lay down the shovel and throw away the spade,
For Richmond is a hard road to travel, I'm afraid.
Then said Lincoln unto Pope, "You can make the trip, I hope."
"I will save the universal Yankee nation!
"To make sure of no defeat, I'll leave no lines of retreat,
"And issue a famous proclamation!"
But that same dreaded Jackson, this fella laid his whacks on
And made him, by compulsion, a seceder.
Pope took rapid flight from Manassas' second fight,
'Twas his very last appearance as a leader.
Then pull off your overcoat and roll up your sleeve,
Stonewall is a hard road to travel.
Pope did his very best but was evidently sold,
For Richmond is a hard road to travel, I am told.
Last of all Burnside, with his pontoon bridges, tried
A road no one had thought of before him,
With two hundred thousand men for the Rebel slaughter pen
And the blessed Union flag waving o'er him.
He met a fire like hell of canister and shell
That mowed down his men with great slaughter.
'Twas a shocking sight to view, that second Waterloo,
And the river ran with more blood than water.
Then pull off your overcoat and roll up your sleeve,
Rappahannock is a hard road to travel.
Burnside got in a trap, which caused for him to grieve,
For Richmond is a hard road to travel, I believe.
We are very much perplexed to know who is the next
To command the new Richmond expedition,
For the capital must blaze, and that in ninety days,
And Jeff and his men be sent to perdition.
We'll take the cursed town, and then we'll burn it down
And plunder and hang each cursed Rebel.
Yet the contraband was right when he told us they would fight:
"Oh, yes, massa, dey will fight like the debil!"
Then pull off your overcoat and roll up your sleeve,
For Richmond is a hard road to travel.
Then pull off your overcoat and roll up your sleeves,
For Richmond is a hard road to travel, I believe.
En het overbekende:
When Johnny Comes Marching Home
by Patrick S. Gilmore
When Johnny comes marching home again,
Hurrah, hurrah,
We'll give him a hearty welcome then,
Hurrah, hurrah!
The men will cheer, the boys will shout,
The ladies, they will all turn out,
And we'll all feel gay when Johnny comes marching home.
The old church bell will peal with joy,
Hurrah, hurrah!
To welcome home our darling boy,
Hurrah, hurrah!
The village lads and lassies say,
With roses they will strew the way,
And we'll all feel gay when Johnny comes marching home.
Get ready for the Jubilee,
Hurrah, hurrah!
We'll give the hero three times three,
Hurrah, hurrah!
The laurel wreath is ready now
To place upon his loyal brow,
And we'll all feel gay when Johnny come marching home.
Let love and friendship on that day,
Hurrah, hurrah!
Their choicest treasures then display,
Hurrah, hurrah!
And let each one perform some part,
To fill with joy the warrior's heart,
And we'll all feel gay when Johnny comes marching home.
deze twee kende ik uit m'n hoofd, ik loop regelmatig door het bos van m'n werk naar huis en dan zijn wat marsliederen erg prettig
Richmond is a Hard Road to Travel
by Anonymous
Would you like to hear my song? I'm afraid it's rather long,
Of the famous "On to Richmond" double trouble;
Of the half a dozen trips and half a dozen slips
And the very latest bursting of the bubble.
'Tis pretty hard to sing and, like a round, round ring,
'Tis a dreadful knotty puzzle to unravel;
Though all the papers swore, when we touched Virginia's shore,
That Richmond was a hard road to travel.
Then pull off your overcoat and roll up your sleeve,
For Richmond is a hard road to travel.
Then pull off your overcoat and roll up your sleeve,
For Richmond is a hard road to travel, I believe.
First McDowell, bold and gay, set forth the shortest way
By Manassas in the pleasant summer weather
But unfortunately ran on a Stonewall (foolish man!)
And had a rocky journey altogether.
And he found it rather hard to ride over Beauregard
And Johnston proved a deuce of a bother.
'Twas clear beyond a doubt that he didn't like the route
And a second time would have to try another.
Then pull off your overcoat and roll up your sleeve,
For Manassas is a hard road to travel.
Manassas gave us fits, and Bull Run made us grieve,
For Richmond is a hard road to travel, I believe.
Next came the Wooly Horse with an overwhelming force
To march down to Richmond by the Valley,
But he couldn't find the road, and his onward movement showed
His campaigning was a mere shilly-shally.
Then Commissary Banks, with his motley foreign ranks
Kicking up a great noise, fuss, and flurry,
Lost the whole of his supplies and with tears in his eyes
From the Stonewall ran away in a hurry.
Then pull off your overcoat and roll up your sleeve,
For the Valley is a hard road to travel.
The Valley wouldn't do, and we all had to leave,
For Richmond is a hard road to travel, I believe.
Then the great Galena came, with her portholes all aflame,
And the Monitor, that famous naval wonder,
But the guns at Drury's Bluff gave them speedily enough
The loudest sort of reg'lar Rebel thunder.
The Galena was astonished and the Monitor admonished,
Our patent shot and shell were mocked at,
While the dreadful Naugatuck, by the hardest kind of luck,
Was knocked into an ugly cocked hat.
Then pull off your overcoat and roll up your sleeve,
For James River is a hard road to travel.
The gunboats gave up in terror and despair,
For Richmond is a hard road to travel, I declare.
Then McClellan followed soon, both with spade and balloon,
To try the Peninsular approaches,
But one and all agreed that his best rate of speed
Was no faster than the slowest of slow coaches.
Instead of easy ground, at Williamsburg he found
A Longstreet indeed and nothing shorter.
And it put him in the dumps that spades wasn't trumps
And the Hills he couldn't level "as he orter!"
Then pull off your overcoat and roll up your sleeve,
For Longstreet is a hard road to travel.
Lay down the shovel and throw away the spade,
For Richmond is a hard road to travel, I'm afraid.
Then said Lincoln unto Pope, "You can make the trip, I hope."
"I will save the universal Yankee nation!
"To make sure of no defeat, I'll leave no lines of retreat,
"And issue a famous proclamation!"
But that same dreaded Jackson, this fella laid his whacks on
And made him, by compulsion, a seceder.
Pope took rapid flight from Manassas' second fight,
'Twas his very last appearance as a leader.
Then pull off your overcoat and roll up your sleeve,
Stonewall is a hard road to travel.
Pope did his very best but was evidently sold,
For Richmond is a hard road to travel, I am told.
Last of all Burnside, with his pontoon bridges, tried
A road no one had thought of before him,
With two hundred thousand men for the Rebel slaughter pen
And the blessed Union flag waving o'er him.
He met a fire like hell of canister and shell
That mowed down his men with great slaughter.
'Twas a shocking sight to view, that second Waterloo,
And the river ran with more blood than water.
Then pull off your overcoat and roll up your sleeve,
Rappahannock is a hard road to travel.
Burnside got in a trap, which caused for him to grieve,
For Richmond is a hard road to travel, I believe.
We are very much perplexed to know who is the next
To command the new Richmond expedition,
For the capital must blaze, and that in ninety days,
And Jeff and his men be sent to perdition.
We'll take the cursed town, and then we'll burn it down
And plunder and hang each cursed Rebel.
Yet the contraband was right when he told us they would fight:
"Oh, yes, massa, dey will fight like the debil!"
Then pull off your overcoat and roll up your sleeve,
For Richmond is a hard road to travel.
Then pull off your overcoat and roll up your sleeves,
For Richmond is a hard road to travel, I believe.
En het overbekende:
When Johnny Comes Marching Home
by Patrick S. Gilmore
When Johnny comes marching home again,
Hurrah, hurrah,
We'll give him a hearty welcome then,
Hurrah, hurrah!
The men will cheer, the boys will shout,
The ladies, they will all turn out,
And we'll all feel gay when Johnny comes marching home.
The old church bell will peal with joy,
Hurrah, hurrah!
To welcome home our darling boy,
Hurrah, hurrah!
The village lads and lassies say,
With roses they will strew the way,
And we'll all feel gay when Johnny comes marching home.
Get ready for the Jubilee,
Hurrah, hurrah!
We'll give the hero three times three,
Hurrah, hurrah!
The laurel wreath is ready now
To place upon his loyal brow,
And we'll all feel gay when Johnny come marching home.
Let love and friendship on that day,
Hurrah, hurrah!
Their choicest treasures then display,
Hurrah, hurrah!
And let each one perform some part,
To fill with joy the warrior's heart,
And we'll all feel gay when Johnny comes marching home.
deze twee kende ik uit m'n hoofd, ik loop regelmatig door het bos van m'n werk naar huis en dan zijn wat marsliederen erg prettig
Op woensdag 24 sept. 2008 schreef Danny het volgende:
Dagonet doet onaardig tegen iedereen. Je bent dus helemaal niet zo bijzonder als je denkt...
Mijn grootste bijdrage aan de FP.
Dagonet doet onaardig tegen iedereen. Je bent dus helemaal niet zo bijzonder als je denkt...
Mijn grootste bijdrage aan de FP.
heb je mss wat linkjes naar die nummers? Ik ben benieuwd naar de melodiequote:Op zondag 11 april 2004 12:10 schreef Dagonet het volgende:
Uit de War of the States:
Richmond is a Hard Road to Travel
by Anonymous
Would you like to hear my song? I'm afraid it's rather long,
deze twee kende ik uit m'n hoofd, ik loop regelmatig door het bos van m'n werk naar huis en dan zijn wat marsliederen erg prettig
http://www.google.nl/sear(...)+war+songs+midi+&lr=
Spreekt natuurlijk voor zich, maar zoeken via Kazaa kan je ook veel opleveren hoor.
Johnny comes marching home is erg bekend natuurlijk, maar Richmond zit ook op een gegeven moment in je hoofd voor de rest van je leven, hele simpele melodieën
Spreekt natuurlijk voor zich, maar zoeken via Kazaa kan je ook veel opleveren hoor.
Johnny comes marching home is erg bekend natuurlijk, maar Richmond zit ook op een gegeven moment in je hoofd voor de rest van je leven, hele simpele melodieën
Op woensdag 24 sept. 2008 schreef Danny het volgende:
Dagonet doet onaardig tegen iedereen. Je bent dus helemaal niet zo bijzonder als je denkt...
Mijn grootste bijdrage aan de FP.
Dagonet doet onaardig tegen iedereen. Je bent dus helemaal niet zo bijzonder als je denkt...
Mijn grootste bijdrage aan de FP.
Mooi lied. Hier kan je hem beluisteren:quote:Op dinsdag 30 maart 2004 02:22 schreef Price het volgende:
Dit is een mooi lied. Trouwens het leuke van Duitse marsmuziek is het veelvuldige gebruik van de grote trom.
Westerwaldlied
Heute wollen wir marschieren
Einen neuen Marsch probieren
|: In dem schönen Westerwald
Ja da pfeift der Wind so kalt :|
Oh du schöner Westerwald
Über deine Höhen pfeift der Wind so kalt
Jedoch der kleinste Sonnenschein
Dringt tief ins Herz hinein
Und die Gretel und der Hans
Geh'n des Sonntags gern zum Tanz
|: Weil das Tanzen Freude macht
Und das Herz im Leibe lacht :|
Oh du schöner Westerwald...
Ist das Tanzen dann vorbei
Gibt's gewöhnlich Keilerei
|: Und dem Bursch den das nicht freut
Man sagt der hat kein Schneid :|
Oh du schöner Westerwald...
Edit: Ik kende "Wenn die Soldaten" eerder.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m1iWSOCpZsU
The Connaught Rangers
In our army we're the best
from the north, south, east, and west
the best of boys are followin' the drum
We are mighty hard to beat
we can say without conceit
faith! the enemy is welcome when they come
Be they Russian, French or Dutch
sure it doesn't matter much
we're the boys to put the sugar in their tay
For we are the Connaught Rangers
the men to face all dangers
Faugh a ballagh, Faugh a ballagh, Clear the Way!
Chorus:
You can talk about your Guards boys
your lancers and hussars boys
your fusiliers and royal artillery (without the guns)
the girls we drive em crazy
the foe we beat em aisy
we're the Rangers from old Connaught - Yaaaaargh!
The land across the sea!
Mademoiselle from Armentieres
Mademoiselle from Armentieres, Parley- voo?
Mademoiselle from Armentieres, Parley- voo?
Mademoiselle from Armentieres,
Hadn't been f*cked in forty years,
Hinky, dinky, parley voo.
Mademoiselle from Armentieres, Parley- voo?
Mademoiselle from Armentieres, Parley- voo?
She had four chins, her knees would knock,
Her face would stop a cuckoo clock,
Hinky, dinky parley voo.
The Officers get the pie and cake, Parley-voo
The Officers get the pie and cake, Parley-voo,
The Officers get the pie and cake,
And all we get is a bellyache,
Hinky-dinky, parley-voo
Mademoiselle from Armentieres, Parley- voo?
Mademoiselle from Armentieres, Parley- voo?
Her legs were short, her arse was huge,
But what do you want for thirty sous,
Hinky, dinky parley voo.....
Lilli Marlene
Underneath the lantern by the barrack gate
Darling I remember the way you used to wait
'Twas there that you whispered tenderly
That you loved me, you'd always be
My Lilli of the lamplight
My own Lilli Marlene
Time would come for roll call, time for us to part
Darling I'd caress you and press you to my heart
And there 'neath that far off lantern light
I'd hold you tight, we'd kiss "Good-night"
My Lilli of the lamplight
My own Lilli Marlene
Orders came for sailing somewhere over there
All confined to barracks was more than I could bear
I knew you were waiting in the street
I heard your feet, but could not meet
My Lilli of the lamplight
My own Lilli Marlene
Resting in a billet just behind the line
Even tho' we're parted your lips are close to mine
You wait where that lantern softly gleems
Your sweet face seems to haunt my dreams
My Lilli of the lamplight
My own Lilli Marlene
In our army we're the best
from the north, south, east, and west
the best of boys are followin' the drum
We are mighty hard to beat
we can say without conceit
faith! the enemy is welcome when they come
Be they Russian, French or Dutch
sure it doesn't matter much
we're the boys to put the sugar in their tay
For we are the Connaught Rangers
the men to face all dangers
Faugh a ballagh, Faugh a ballagh, Clear the Way!
Chorus:
You can talk about your Guards boys
your lancers and hussars boys
your fusiliers and royal artillery (without the guns)
the girls we drive em crazy
the foe we beat em aisy
we're the Rangers from old Connaught - Yaaaaargh!
The land across the sea!
Mademoiselle from Armentieres
Mademoiselle from Armentieres, Parley- voo?
Mademoiselle from Armentieres, Parley- voo?
Mademoiselle from Armentieres,
Hadn't been f*cked in forty years,
Hinky, dinky, parley voo.
Mademoiselle from Armentieres, Parley- voo?
Mademoiselle from Armentieres, Parley- voo?
She had four chins, her knees would knock,
Her face would stop a cuckoo clock,
Hinky, dinky parley voo.
The Officers get the pie and cake, Parley-voo
The Officers get the pie and cake, Parley-voo,
The Officers get the pie and cake,
And all we get is a bellyache,
Hinky-dinky, parley-voo
Mademoiselle from Armentieres, Parley- voo?
Mademoiselle from Armentieres, Parley- voo?
Her legs were short, her arse was huge,
But what do you want for thirty sous,
Hinky, dinky parley voo.....
Lilli Marlene
Underneath the lantern by the barrack gate
Darling I remember the way you used to wait
'Twas there that you whispered tenderly
That you loved me, you'd always be
My Lilli of the lamplight
My own Lilli Marlene
Time would come for roll call, time for us to part
Darling I'd caress you and press you to my heart
And there 'neath that far off lantern light
I'd hold you tight, we'd kiss "Good-night"
My Lilli of the lamplight
My own Lilli Marlene
Orders came for sailing somewhere over there
All confined to barracks was more than I could bear
I knew you were waiting in the street
I heard your feet, but could not meet
My Lilli of the lamplight
My own Lilli Marlene
Resting in a billet just behind the line
Even tho' we're parted your lips are close to mine
You wait where that lantern softly gleems
Your sweet face seems to haunt my dreams
My Lilli of the lamplight
My own Lilli Marlene
"Academics, people who know the word for coal in seventeen languages but gape and stammer when asked to lay a fire."
Afrika Korps Lied:
Mooi lied!!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VVL14HDPUeg
1. Über die Scheldte die Maas und den Rhein
Stießen die Panzer nach Frankreich hinein
Husaren des Führers im schwarzen Gewand
So haben sie Frankreich im Sturm überrannt
Refrain:
Es rasselten die Ketten
Es dröhnt der Motor,
|: Panzer rollen in Afrika vor. :|
2. Heiß über Afrikas Boden die Sonne glüht,
Unsere Panzermotoren singen ihr Lied,
Deutsche Panzer im Wüstensand,
Stehen im Kampf gegen Engeland,
Refrain:
3. Panzer des Führers ihr Briten habt acht
Sie sind zu Eurer Vernichtung erdacht
Sie fürchten vor Tod und vor Teufel sich nicht
An ihnen das britische Weltreich zerbricht
Refrain:
-------------------------------------------------------
Es scheint heut' die Sonne vom Himmel so heiß
Es weht ein Lüftchen wie Seide,
Wir stehen im Schatten der Panzer; wer weiß
Vielleicht weht es uns zu Leide.
In Afrika da kämpfen im glutheißen Sand
Deutsche Panzer für ihr Volk und Vaterland.
Heiß über Afrikas Boden die Sonne glüht,
Unsere Panzermotoren singen ihr Lied.
Deutsche Panzer im Sonnenbrand
Stehen im Kampfe gegen Engeland.
Es ratteln die Ketten, es dröhnt der Motor,
Panzer rollen in Afrika vor.
Mooi lied!!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VVL14HDPUeg
1. Über die Scheldte die Maas und den Rhein
Stießen die Panzer nach Frankreich hinein
Husaren des Führers im schwarzen Gewand
So haben sie Frankreich im Sturm überrannt
Refrain:
Es rasselten die Ketten
Es dröhnt der Motor,
|: Panzer rollen in Afrika vor. :|
2. Heiß über Afrikas Boden die Sonne glüht,
Unsere Panzermotoren singen ihr Lied,
Deutsche Panzer im Wüstensand,
Stehen im Kampf gegen Engeland,
Refrain:
3. Panzer des Führers ihr Briten habt acht
Sie sind zu Eurer Vernichtung erdacht
Sie fürchten vor Tod und vor Teufel sich nicht
An ihnen das britische Weltreich zerbricht
Refrain:
-------------------------------------------------------
Es scheint heut' die Sonne vom Himmel so heiß
Es weht ein Lüftchen wie Seide,
Wir stehen im Schatten der Panzer; wer weiß
Vielleicht weht es uns zu Leide.
In Afrika da kämpfen im glutheißen Sand
Deutsche Panzer für ihr Volk und Vaterland.
Heiß über Afrikas Boden die Sonne glüht,
Unsere Panzermotoren singen ihr Lied.
Deutsche Panzer im Sonnenbrand
Stehen im Kampfe gegen Engeland.
Es ratteln die Ketten, es dröhnt der Motor,
Panzer rollen in Afrika vor.
Vulneratus nec Victus The Spirit Will Never Leave Us.
Nog eentje welke mooi is.
Het Lied van het Korps Luchtdoelartillerie
Het artillerielied voldeed niet (meer) voor de luchtdoelartillerie. De verwijzingen naar "veldartillerie" en "paarden" sloten niet aan bij de de moderne techniek, hydrauliek en dynamiek van de (pantser)luchtdoelartillerie. Om die reden is in 1978 een speciaal luchtdoelartillerielied geschreven door kapitein b.d. A.W. de Vries.
De tekst is voor wat betreft het eerste en het derde couplet afwijkend van het artillerielied. De melodie is ongewijzigd.
Wat dreunt daar op die heide,
Wat dondert in de lucht?
Wat zoekt en volgt beide,
De vijand op zijn vlucht?
Hoe zwenken die kanonnen,
In eendere regie!
Door mensengeest gewonnen,
't Is de Luchtdoelartillerie,
Door mensengeest gewonnen,
't Is de Luchtdoelartillerie
De kruitdamp is hun leven,
’t Kanon is hun banier!
De hoop daarvoor te sneven,
Bezielt elk kanonnier!
Zij haken naar den strijde,
Voor Vaderland en Vorst!
Voor Land en Koning beide,
Klopt steeds hun mannenborst,
Voor Land en Koning beide,
Klopt steeds hun mannenborst
Van paarden tot motoren,
Van zwaard tot aan techniek,
De luchtafweer geboren,
Het eind der romantiek!
Toch bleef uit het verleden
Een beeld nog frank en fier.
Uit het goede hout gesneden,
Dat bleef de kanonnier,
Uit het goede hout gesneden,
Dat bleef de kanonnier!
Maar ook in tijd van vrede,
Blinkt steeds de kanonnier!
En meisjes schoon van leden,
Zijn op zijn liefde fier.
Waar moed zit, heerst ook trouwe,
Met kracht nooit uitgeblust!
Daarom de schoonste vrouwen,
Heeft hij naar hartelust,
Daarom de schoonste vrouwen,
Heeft hij naar hartelust!
Hoera dus voor ons Wapen,
Lang leev’ de kanonnier!
Lang leev’ die forse knapen,
Des legers schoonste sier!
Hun leus zij: steeds te strijden,
Werwaarts ook d’eer hen zendt,
Voor Land en Koning beide,
Tot roem van ’t Regiment,
Voor Land en Koning beide,
Tot roem van 't Regiment!
Het Lied van het Korps Luchtdoelartillerie
Het artillerielied voldeed niet (meer) voor de luchtdoelartillerie. De verwijzingen naar "veldartillerie" en "paarden" sloten niet aan bij de de moderne techniek, hydrauliek en dynamiek van de (pantser)luchtdoelartillerie. Om die reden is in 1978 een speciaal luchtdoelartillerielied geschreven door kapitein b.d. A.W. de Vries.
De tekst is voor wat betreft het eerste en het derde couplet afwijkend van het artillerielied. De melodie is ongewijzigd.
Wat dreunt daar op die heide,
Wat dondert in de lucht?
Wat zoekt en volgt beide,
De vijand op zijn vlucht?
Hoe zwenken die kanonnen,
In eendere regie!
Door mensengeest gewonnen,
't Is de Luchtdoelartillerie,
Door mensengeest gewonnen,
't Is de Luchtdoelartillerie
De kruitdamp is hun leven,
’t Kanon is hun banier!
De hoop daarvoor te sneven,
Bezielt elk kanonnier!
Zij haken naar den strijde,
Voor Vaderland en Vorst!
Voor Land en Koning beide,
Klopt steeds hun mannenborst,
Voor Land en Koning beide,
Klopt steeds hun mannenborst
Van paarden tot motoren,
Van zwaard tot aan techniek,
De luchtafweer geboren,
Het eind der romantiek!
Toch bleef uit het verleden
Een beeld nog frank en fier.
Uit het goede hout gesneden,
Dat bleef de kanonnier,
Uit het goede hout gesneden,
Dat bleef de kanonnier!
Maar ook in tijd van vrede,
Blinkt steeds de kanonnier!
En meisjes schoon van leden,
Zijn op zijn liefde fier.
Waar moed zit, heerst ook trouwe,
Met kracht nooit uitgeblust!
Daarom de schoonste vrouwen,
Heeft hij naar hartelust,
Daarom de schoonste vrouwen,
Heeft hij naar hartelust!
Hoera dus voor ons Wapen,
Lang leev’ de kanonnier!
Lang leev’ die forse knapen,
Des legers schoonste sier!
Hun leus zij: steeds te strijden,
Werwaarts ook d’eer hen zendt,
Voor Land en Koning beide,
Tot roem van ’t Regiment,
Voor Land en Koning beide,
Tot roem van 't Regiment!
Vulneratus nec Victus The Spirit Will Never Leave Us.
Het volgende liedje gaat over Generaal Morshead en z'n 9e Australische Divisie die in 1941 de Libische haven van Tobruk tegen Rommel verdedigden.
Ali Baba Morshead and His Twenty Thousand Thieves
Old Jerry had us on the run - the news was far from hot
He had his foot in Egypt, and the Sphinx was on the spot
The GOC, despondent, sent signals out in sheaves
To Ali Baba Morshead and his 20,000 thieves
So Leslie called his G. staff and whispered in their ears
His message went to Auky - "Have a pot and drown your fears
We'll make that bastard Rommel think he's got the Gippo heaves
Will Ali Baba Morshead and his 20,000 thieves"
So we traveled down to Egypt from these pleasant lands afar
We knew the need was urgent 'cause we'd come by motor car
We didn't stop in Cairo, and Alexandria grieves
O'er Ali Baba Morshead and his 20,000 thieves
Now Rommel's got a headache, his tanks can't take a trip
His drop shots aren't so wonderful, his air force makes you sick
His glorious dreams of yesterday are ditched, and is he peeved!
While Ali Baba gloats over his 20,000 thieves
Will history repeat itself, now we're once more in the game?
Will the form displayed in '41 this year be the same?
If so, then Rommel's stonkered, when o're the plan he weaves
'Gainst Ali Baba Morshead and his 20,000 thieves
GOC= General officer commanding
Auky= Claude Auchinleck, toendertijd brits opperbevelhebber in het midden oosten.
Ali Baba Morshead and His Twenty Thousand Thieves
Old Jerry had us on the run - the news was far from hot
He had his foot in Egypt, and the Sphinx was on the spot
The GOC, despondent, sent signals out in sheaves
To Ali Baba Morshead and his 20,000 thieves
So Leslie called his G. staff and whispered in their ears
His message went to Auky - "Have a pot and drown your fears
We'll make that bastard Rommel think he's got the Gippo heaves
Will Ali Baba Morshead and his 20,000 thieves"
So we traveled down to Egypt from these pleasant lands afar
We knew the need was urgent 'cause we'd come by motor car
We didn't stop in Cairo, and Alexandria grieves
O'er Ali Baba Morshead and his 20,000 thieves
Now Rommel's got a headache, his tanks can't take a trip
His drop shots aren't so wonderful, his air force makes you sick
His glorious dreams of yesterday are ditched, and is he peeved!
While Ali Baba gloats over his 20,000 thieves
Will history repeat itself, now we're once more in the game?
Will the form displayed in '41 this year be the same?
If so, then Rommel's stonkered, when o're the plan he weaves
'Gainst Ali Baba Morshead and his 20,000 thieves
GOC= General officer commanding
Auky= Claude Auchinleck, toendertijd brits opperbevelhebber in het midden oosten.
"Academics, people who know the word for coal in seventeen languages but gape and stammer when asked to lay a fire."
Nee, ooit is van een of andere website gehaald. Ik betwijfel of het ook ooit echt oficieel is opgenomen.
The D-day dodgers
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/D-Day_Dodgers
We're the D-Day Dodgers out in Italy -
Always on the vino, always on the spree.
Eighth Army scroungers and their tanks
We live in Rome - among the Yanks.
We are the D-Day Dodgers, over here in Italy.
We landed at Salerno, a holiday with pay,
Jerry brought the band down to cheer us on our way
We all sang the songs and the beer was free.
We kissed all the girls in Napoli.
For we are the D-Day Dodgers, over here in Italy.[1]
The Volturno and Cassino were taken in our stride/[2]
We didn't have to fight there. We just went for the ride.
Anzio and Sangro were all forlorn.
We did not do a thing from dusk to dawn.[3]
For we are the D-Day Dodgers, over here in Italy.
On our way to Florence we had a lovely time.
We ran a bus to Rimini right through the Gothic Line.
On to Bologna we did go.
Then we went bathing in the Po.
For we are the D-Day Dodgers, over here in Italy.
Once we had a blue light that we were going home
Back to dear old Blighty, never more to roam.
Then somebody said in France you'll fight.
We said never mind, we'll just sit tight,
The windy D-Day Dodgers, out in Sunny Italy.
Now Lady Astor, get a load of this.
Don't stand up on a platform and talk a load of piss.
You're the nation's sweetheart, the nation's pride
But we think your bloody big mouth is far too wide.
For we are the D-Day Dodgers, out in Sunny Italy.
When you look 'round the mountains, through the mud and rain
You'll find the scattered crosses, some which bear no name.
Heartbreak, and toil and suffering gone
The boys beneath them slumber on
They were the D-Day Dodgers, who'll stay in Italy.[4]
So listen all you people, over land and foam
Even though we've parted, our hearts are close to home.
When we return we hope you'll say
"You did your little bit, though far away
All of the D-Day Dodgers, way out there in Italy."
[ Bericht 86% gewijzigd door Stephen_Dedalus op 18-05-2007 00:28:59 ]
The D-day dodgers
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/D-Day_Dodgers
We're the D-Day Dodgers out in Italy -
Always on the vino, always on the spree.
Eighth Army scroungers and their tanks
We live in Rome - among the Yanks.
We are the D-Day Dodgers, over here in Italy.
We landed at Salerno, a holiday with pay,
Jerry brought the band down to cheer us on our way
We all sang the songs and the beer was free.
We kissed all the girls in Napoli.
For we are the D-Day Dodgers, over here in Italy.[1]
The Volturno and Cassino were taken in our stride/[2]
We didn't have to fight there. We just went for the ride.
Anzio and Sangro were all forlorn.
We did not do a thing from dusk to dawn.[3]
For we are the D-Day Dodgers, over here in Italy.
On our way to Florence we had a lovely time.
We ran a bus to Rimini right through the Gothic Line.
On to Bologna we did go.
Then we went bathing in the Po.
For we are the D-Day Dodgers, over here in Italy.
Once we had a blue light that we were going home
Back to dear old Blighty, never more to roam.
Then somebody said in France you'll fight.
We said never mind, we'll just sit tight,
The windy D-Day Dodgers, out in Sunny Italy.
Now Lady Astor, get a load of this.
Don't stand up on a platform and talk a load of piss.
You're the nation's sweetheart, the nation's pride
But we think your bloody big mouth is far too wide.
For we are the D-Day Dodgers, out in Sunny Italy.
When you look 'round the mountains, through the mud and rain
You'll find the scattered crosses, some which bear no name.
Heartbreak, and toil and suffering gone
The boys beneath them slumber on
They were the D-Day Dodgers, who'll stay in Italy.[4]
So listen all you people, over land and foam
Even though we've parted, our hearts are close to home.
When we return we hope you'll say
"You did your little bit, though far away
All of the D-Day Dodgers, way out there in Italy."
[ Bericht 86% gewijzigd door Stephen_Dedalus op 18-05-2007 00:28:59 ]
"Academics, people who know the word for coal in seventeen languages but gape and stammer when asked to lay a fire."
Ballad of the green baret.
Fighting soldiers
From the sky
Fearless men
Who jump and die
Men who mean
Just what they say
The brave men
Of the Green Baret
Silver wings
Upon thier chest
These are men
America's best
100 men
Will test today
But only 3
Win the Green Baret
Trained to live
Off natures land
Trained in combat
Hand to hand
Men who fight
By night and day
Courage leak
From the Green Baret
Silver wings
Upon thier chest
These are men
America's best
100 men
Will test today
But only 3
Win the Green Baret
Back at home
A young wife waits
Her Green Baret
Has met his fate
He has died
For those oppressed
Leaving her
This last request
Put siver wings
On my sons chest
Make him one
Of America's best
He'll be a man
They test someday
Have him win
The Green Baret
Fighting soldiers
From the sky
Fearless men
Who jump and die
Men who mean
Just what they say
The brave men
Of the Green Baret
Silver wings
Upon thier chest
These are men
America's best
100 men
Will test today
But only 3
Win the Green Baret
Trained to live
Off natures land
Trained in combat
Hand to hand
Men who fight
By night and day
Courage leak
From the Green Baret
Silver wings
Upon thier chest
These are men
America's best
100 men
Will test today
But only 3
Win the Green Baret
Back at home
A young wife waits
Her Green Baret
Has met his fate
He has died
For those oppressed
Leaving her
This last request
Put siver wings
On my sons chest
Make him one
Of America's best
He'll be a man
They test someday
Have him win
The Green Baret
"Any officer who goes into action without his sword is improperly dressed." - "Mad Jack" Churchill DSO MC
-omdatditliedjehieralstaatverwijderedit-
"Any officer who goes into action without his sword is improperly dressed." - "Mad Jack" Churchill DSO MC
Duitse versie van 'We are going to hang out the washing on the Siegfried line':
Download: http://denizz.110mb.com/A(...)Siegfried%20Line.aacquote:We're going to hang out the washing on the Siegfried Line.
Have you any dirty washing, mother dear?
We're gonna hang out the washing on the Siegfried Line.
'Cause the washing day....
We're gonna hang out the washing on the Siegfried Line.....
STUKA! STUKA!!!
We're gonna hang out the washing on the Siegfried Line .....
Ja mein Junge, das hast du dir gar zu leicht gedacht
Mit dem großen Wäschetag am deutschen Rhein.
Hast du dir auch deine Hosen richtig voll gemacht,
Brauchst du gar nicht traurig sein.
Bald seifen wir dich gründlich ein
Von oben und von unter her.
Wenn der deutsche Waschtag wird gewesen sein,
Mensch, da brauchste keine Wäsche mehr.
Sing dies Liedchen mit, wer es nur immer singen mag,
Mit der zweiten Kriegsberichterkompanie
Bis zum Wäschetag, ja bis zum Wäschetag
In aller Herrgottsfrüh.
Mein Mädel, schenk noch einmal ein
Und tanzt und trinkt die Gläser leer.
Denn wenn der große Waschtag wird gewesen sein
Kehr ich heim, kehr ich heim übers Meer.
Ich bin der Führer.
Wenn alle untreu werden (Das SS lied)
[ Bericht 12% gewijzigd door Xenwolfie op 26-05-2007 20:36:22 ]
Download: http://minorcrisis.net/files/German%20-%20Das%20SS%20Lied.aacquote:Wenn alle untreu werden, so bleiben wir doch treu,
Daß immer noch auf Erden für euch ein Fähnlein sei.
Gefährten unsrer Jugend, ihr Bilder beßrer Zeit,
Die uns zu Männertugend und Liebestod geweiht.
Wollt nimmer von uns weichen, uns immer nahe sein,
Treu wie die deutschen Eichen, wie Mond und Sonnenschein!
Einst wird es wieder helle in aller Brüder Sinn,
Sie kehren zu der Quelle in Lieb und Reue hin.
[ Bericht 12% gewijzigd door Xenwolfie op 26-05-2007 20:36:22 ]
Ich bin der Führer.
Erika:
[ Bericht 6% gewijzigd door Xenwolfie op 26-05-2007 20:47:22 ]
Download: http://denizz.110mb.com/AAC/German%20-%20Erika.aacquote:Auf der Heide blüht ein kleines Blümelein
Und das heißt: Erika.
Heiß von hunderttausend kleinen Bienelein
Wird umschwärmt Erika.
Denn ihr Herz ist voller Süßigkeit,
Zarter Duft entströmt dem Blütenkleid
Auf der Heide blüht ein kleines Blümelein
Und das heißt: Erika.
2. In der Heimat wohnt ein kleines Mägdelein
Und das heißt: Erika.
Dieses Mädel ist mein treues Schätzelein
Und mein Glück, Erika.
Wenn das Heidekraut rot-lila blüht,
Singe ich zum Gruß ihr dieses Lied.
Auf der Heide blüht ein kleines Blümelein
Und das heißt: Erika.
3. In mein'm Kämmerlein blüht auch ein Blümelein
Und das heißt: Erika.
Schon beim Morgengrau'n sowie beim Dämmerschein
Schaut's mich an, Erika.
Und dann ist es mir, als spräch' es laut:
Denkst du auch an deine kleine Braut?
In der Heimat weint um dich ein Mägdelein
Und das heißt: Erika.
[ Bericht 6% gewijzigd door Xenwolfie op 26-05-2007 20:47:22 ]
Ich bin der Führer.
The Boys Of The Irish Brigade
What for should I sing you of Roman or Greek,
Or the boys we hear tell of in story?
Come match me for fighting, for frolic, or freak,
An Irishman's reign in his glory;
For Ajax, and Hector, and bold Agamemnon,
Were up to the tricks of our trade, O,
But the rollicking boys, for war, ladies and noise,
The boys of the Irish Brigade, O!
What for should I sing you of Helen or Troy,
Or the mischief that came by her flirting?
There's Biddy M'Clinchy the pride of Fermoy,
Twice as much of a Helen, that's certain.
Then for Venus, so famous, or Queen Cleopatra,
Bad luck to the word should be said, O,
By the rollicking boys, for war, ladies and noise,
The Boys of the Irish Brigade, O!
What for should I sing you of classical fun,
Or of games, whether Grecian or Persian?
Sure the Curragh's the place where the knowing one's done,
And Mallow that flogs for diversion.
For fighting, for drinking, for ladies and all,
No time like our times e'er was made, O,
By the rollicking boys, for war, ladies and noise,
The boys of the Irish Brigade, O!
the opinions of paddy magee
I'm Paddy Magee, sir, from Ballinahee, sir,
In an illigant ship I come over the say;
Father Donahoe sent me, my passage he lent me--
Sure, only for that, I'd a walked all the way!
He talked of America's freedom and glory;
"Begorra," says I, "that's the counthry for me!"
So, to ind a long story, I've now come before ye,
To give the opinions of Paddy Magee.
Whin Ireland was needing, and famine was feeding,
And thousands were dying for something to ate,
'Twas America's daughters that sent over the waters
The ships that were loaded with corn and whate:
And Irishmen sure will forever remember,
The vessels that carried the flag of the free;
And the land that befriended, they'll die to defend it,
And that's the opinions of Paddy Magee.
I'm sure none are bowlder the musket to showlder,
Enlisting to learn the sojering trade--
With Corcoran fighting, in Meagher delighting,
They swell up the ranks of the Irish Brigade.
With Columbia defying the bould British Lion,
The sons of ould Ireland forever shall be;
I'll have no intervention, if that's their intention--
And that's the opinions of Paddy Magee.
John Bull, ye ould divil, ye'd betther keep civil!
Remimber the story of 'Seventy-six,
Whin Washington glorious he slathered the tories;
Away from Columbia you then cut your sticks.
And if once again you're inclined to be meddling,
There's a city that's called New Orleans, d'ye see,
Where Hickory Jackson he drove off the Saxon--
Now that's the opinions of Paddy Magee.
Though now we're in trouble, it's only a bubble,
We'll soon make the foes of the Union retire;
Foreign knaves that would meddle had better skedaddle,
For them Uncle Sam has a taste of Greek fire!
They'll find if they try it, Columbia's a giant,
And victory perched on the flag of the free;
For the American nation can whale all creation--
And that's the opinions of Paddy Magee
What for should I sing you of Roman or Greek,
Or the boys we hear tell of in story?
Come match me for fighting, for frolic, or freak,
An Irishman's reign in his glory;
For Ajax, and Hector, and bold Agamemnon,
Were up to the tricks of our trade, O,
But the rollicking boys, for war, ladies and noise,
The boys of the Irish Brigade, O!
What for should I sing you of Helen or Troy,
Or the mischief that came by her flirting?
There's Biddy M'Clinchy the pride of Fermoy,
Twice as much of a Helen, that's certain.
Then for Venus, so famous, or Queen Cleopatra,
Bad luck to the word should be said, O,
By the rollicking boys, for war, ladies and noise,
The Boys of the Irish Brigade, O!
What for should I sing you of classical fun,
Or of games, whether Grecian or Persian?
Sure the Curragh's the place where the knowing one's done,
And Mallow that flogs for diversion.
For fighting, for drinking, for ladies and all,
No time like our times e'er was made, O,
By the rollicking boys, for war, ladies and noise,
The boys of the Irish Brigade, O!
the opinions of paddy magee
I'm Paddy Magee, sir, from Ballinahee, sir,
In an illigant ship I come over the say;
Father Donahoe sent me, my passage he lent me--
Sure, only for that, I'd a walked all the way!
He talked of America's freedom and glory;
"Begorra," says I, "that's the counthry for me!"
So, to ind a long story, I've now come before ye,
To give the opinions of Paddy Magee.
Whin Ireland was needing, and famine was feeding,
And thousands were dying for something to ate,
'Twas America's daughters that sent over the waters
The ships that were loaded with corn and whate:
And Irishmen sure will forever remember,
The vessels that carried the flag of the free;
And the land that befriended, they'll die to defend it,
And that's the opinions of Paddy Magee.
I'm sure none are bowlder the musket to showlder,
Enlisting to learn the sojering trade--
With Corcoran fighting, in Meagher delighting,
They swell up the ranks of the Irish Brigade.
With Columbia defying the bould British Lion,
The sons of ould Ireland forever shall be;
I'll have no intervention, if that's their intention--
And that's the opinions of Paddy Magee.
John Bull, ye ould divil, ye'd betther keep civil!
Remimber the story of 'Seventy-six,
Whin Washington glorious he slathered the tories;
Away from Columbia you then cut your sticks.
And if once again you're inclined to be meddling,
There's a city that's called New Orleans, d'ye see,
Where Hickory Jackson he drove off the Saxon--
Now that's the opinions of Paddy Magee.
Though now we're in trouble, it's only a bubble,
We'll soon make the foes of the Union retire;
Foreign knaves that would meddle had better skedaddle,
For them Uncle Sam has a taste of Greek fire!
They'll find if they try it, Columbia's a giant,
And victory perched on the flag of the free;
For the American nation can whale all creation--
And that's the opinions of Paddy Magee
"Academics, people who know the word for coal in seventeen languages but gape and stammer when asked to lay a fire."
Weet iemand hoe dat duitse lied heet die de Duitse SS soldaten in de bunker van de Atlantikwall tijdens de film D Day aan het eind van het appel aanheffen en erbij stampen.
|
|
