FOGGY DEW
Décimo disco de estudio de los geniales "Jag Panzer", una banda de la que ya he hablado en alguna ocasión en el blog y de sobra conocidos por méritos propios y por una larguísima carrera que se iniciase a comienzos de los 80 para perdurar hasta nuestros días con varios parones y reuniones en el camino. Es fácil apostar por bandas como esta, en la que figuras importantes dentro de nuestro mundillo han volcado su buen hacer, y que nunca terminan defraudando a sus seguidores. Una vez más Harry "The Tyrant" Conklin a la voz tira del carro reforzado por la vuelta de joey Tafolla a las guitarras, ambos garantía de calidad, habiendo completado la banda un buen disco en esta su décima entrega de Larga Duración, "The deviant chord" del pasado 2017. Uno, como digo, puede sumergirse en banda que ya han demostrado tanto como Jag Panzer sin demasiado miedo a equivocarse, y así, en este caso temas como “Born of the Flame”, “Far Beyond All Fear”, “Salacious Behavior”, etc te dan las claves de que tenemos Jag Panzer para rato en condiciones normales, para alegría de sus seguidores de siempre. Hoy quiero dejar en el blog el tema "Foggy Dew", versión de la balada tradicional irlandesa un poco "musculada" con el toque "Made in Jag Panzer", de la que dejo un enlace a youtube.
I was down the glen one easter morn
To a city fair rode I
There armed lines of marching men
In squadrons passed me by
No pipe did hum
No battle drum did sound its loud tattoo
But the Angelus Bells o'er the Liffcy Swells
Rang out in the foggy dew
Proudly high in Dublin town
The hung out a flag of war
It was better to die neath an Irish sky
Than at Sulva or Sud el Bar
And from the plains of Royal Meath
Strong men came hurrying through
While Brittania's huns with their long range guns
Sailed in through the foggy dew
Twas Britannia bade our Wild Geese go
That small nations might be free
But their lonely graves are by Sulva's waves
Or the shore of the Great North Sea
Oh, had they died by Pearse's side
Or fought with Cathal Brugha
Their names we will keep where the Fenians sleep
Neath the shroud of the foggy dew
Their bravest tell and the requiem bell
Rang mournfully and clear
For those who died that Eastertide
In the Spring time of the year
While the world did gaze with desp amaze
At those fearless men but few
Who bore the fight that freedom's light
Might shine through the foggy dew
To a city fair rode I
There armed lines of marching men
In squadrons passed me by
No pipe did hum
No battle drum did sound its loud tattoo
But the Angelus Bells o'er the Liffcy Swells
Rang out in the foggy dew
Proudly high in Dublin town
The hung out a flag of war
It was better to die neath an Irish sky
Than at Sulva or Sud el Bar
And from the plains of Royal Meath
Strong men came hurrying through
While Brittania's huns with their long range guns
Sailed in through the foggy dew
Twas Britannia bade our Wild Geese go
That small nations might be free
But their lonely graves are by Sulva's waves
Or the shore of the Great North Sea
Oh, had they died by Pearse's side
Or fought with Cathal Brugha
Their names we will keep where the Fenians sleep
Neath the shroud of the foggy dew
Their bravest tell and the requiem bell
Rang mournfully and clear
For those who died that Eastertide
In the Spring time of the year
While the world did gaze with desp amaze
At those fearless men but few
Who bore the fight that freedom's light
Might shine through the foggy dew
By Nash
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