Here is one of my favorite songs from U2 taken out of the album “Rattle and Hum”. This is the life version with the amendments of Bono:

Here we are the irish in America. The Irish have been coming to America for years, come back to the great famine, when the Irish were on the run from starvation and the british government couldn´t care less. Right up to today, you know, there are more Irish imigrants in America than ever. Some illegal, some legal. A lot of them are just running away from high unemployment, some from the troubles in Nothern Ireland. From the hatred of the blocks, from torture, others from wild terrorism, like we had today in a town called Enniskillen where 11 people died, many more injured on a Sunday, bloody Sunday.

SUNDAY BLOODY SUNDAY

I can´t believe the news today,
I can´t close my eyes and make it go away.
How long, how long must we sing this song?
How long? Tonight we can be as one.
Broken bottles under children´s feet.
Bodies strewn across dead end street.
But I won´t heed the battle the battle call,
It puts my back up, puts my back up against the wall.

Sunday, bloody Sunday.
Sunday, bloody Sunday.

And the battle´s just begun,
There´s many lost, but tell me who has won?
The trenches dug within our hearts,
And mother´s children, brothers, sisters torn apart.

And let me tell you something:
I´ve had enough of the irish Americans who haven´t been back to their country in 20 or 30 years and come up to me and talk about the resistence, the revolution back home. And the glory of dying for the revolution.
They don´t talk about the glory of killing for the revolution. What´s the glory in taking a man out of his bed and gunning him down in front of his wife and children? Where is the glory in that?
Where is the glory in bombing a rememberance day of old age pensioners, their medals taken out and polished up for the day. Where is the glory in that? To leave them dying or crippeled for life or dead under the ruins of the revolution, that the majority of the people in my country don´t want.

No more! No More! Sing: No more! No More! No more!

Sunday, bloody Sunday.
Sunday, bloody Sunday.

How long, how long must we sing this song?
How long? Tonight we can be as one.
Tonight, tonight.

Sunday, bloody Sunday.
Sunday, bloody Sunday.

Wipe the tears from your eyes,
Wipe your tears away,
Wipe your bloodshot eyes.

Sunday, bloody Sunday.
Sunday, bloody Sunday.

And it´s true we are immune,
When fiction and T.V. is reality,
And today the millions cry,
We eat and drink while tomorrow they die.
The real battle just begun.
To claim the victory Jesus won,
On a Sunday, blood Sunday.
Sunday, bloody Sunday.



Check out the gallery of :neversweet: