Установить Steam
войти
|
язык
简体中文 (упрощенный китайский)
繁體中文 (традиционный китайский)
日本語 (японский)
한국어 (корейский)
ไทย (тайский)
Български (болгарский)
Čeština (чешский)
Dansk (датский)
Deutsch (немецкий)
English (английский)
Español - España (испанский)
Español - Latinoamérica (латиноам. испанский)
Ελληνικά (греческий)
Français (французский)
Italiano (итальянский)
Bahasa Indonesia (индонезийский)
Magyar (венгерский)
Nederlands (нидерландский)
Norsk (норвежский)
Polski (польский)
Português (португальский)
Português-Brasil (бразильский португальский)
Română (румынский)
Suomi (финский)
Svenska (шведский)
Türkçe (турецкий)
Tiếng Việt (вьетнамский)
Українська (украинский)
Сообщить о проблеме с переводом
Cork city's flames lit up the sky but our brave boys knew no fear
The Cork Brigade with hand grenades in ambush waiting lay
And the black and tans like lightning ran from the rifles of the I.R.A.
The tans were caught, taken out and shot by the brave and valiant few
Sean Treacy, Denny Lacey, and Tom Barry's gallant crew
Though we're not free yet, we won't forget until our dying day
How the black and tans like lightning ran from the rifles of the I.R.A.
Did take the orange, white, and green bombarded Dublin town
But in '21, Britannia's sons were forced to earn their pay
And the black and tans like lightning ran from the rifles of the I.R.A.
They burned their way through Munster and laid Leinster on the rack
In Connaught and in Ulster marched the men of brown and black
They shot down wives and children in their own heroic way
And the black and tans like lightning ran from the rifles of the I.R.A.