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Blood Upon The Grass

  • Adam McNaughtan

    September the eleventh in Nineteen seventy-three
    Scores of people perished in a vile machine-gun spree
    Santiago stadium became a place to kill
    Now a Scottish football team will grace it with their skill
    And there's blood upon the grass
    And there's blood upon the grass

    Will you go there, Alan Rough, will you play there, Tom Forsyth
    Where so many folk met early the Grim Reaper with his scythe
    These people weren't terrorists, they weren't Party hacks
    But some were maybe goalkeeper and some were centre backs
    And there's blood upon the grass
    And there's blood upon the grass

    Victor Jara played guitar as he was led into the ground
    So they broke all of his fingers so his strings no more could sound
    Still he kept on singing songs of freedom, songs of peace
    And though they gunned him down, his message doesn't cease
    And there's blood upon the grass
    And there's blood upon the grass

    Will you go there, Archie Gemmill, will you play there, Andy Gray
    Will it trouble you to hear the voice of Victor Jara say
    Somos cinquo mille - We are five thousand in this place
    And Scottish football helps to hide the Junta's dark disgrace
    And there's blood upon the grass
    And there's blood upon the grass

    Do you stand upon the terracing at Ibrox or Parkhead
    Do you cheer the Saints in black and white, the Dons in flaming red
    All those who died in Chile were people of your kind
    Let's tell the football bosses that it's time they changed their mind
    Before there's blood upon their hands

    1, as sung by Adam McNaughtan


    On September the eleventh in Nineteen seventy-three
    Many people died in a vile machine-gun spree
    When a Santiago sportsground became a place to kill
    But now a Scottish football team has gone there with their skill
    But there's blood upon the grass
    Blood upon the grass

    Did you go there, Archie Gemmill, did you play there, Tom Forsyth
    Where so many folk met early the Grim Reaper with his scythe
    These people weren't terrorists, not even Party hacks
    Maybe some of them were goalkeepers, maybe some were centre backs
    Now their blood's upon the grass
    Their blood's upon the grass

    Victor Jara played guitar there when they took him to that ground
    And they broke his fingers one by one so his strings no more could sound
    Jara kept on singing songs of freedom, songs of peace
    And even when they shot him down his message didn't cease
    But now his blood's upon the grass,
    His blood's upon the grass

    So as you stand there on the terracing at Ibrox or Parkhead
    And you cheer your team that plays in green or yellow, blue or red
    Those Santiago victims were people of our kind
    Too bad our football bosses didn't change their bloody minds
    Now there's blood upon their hands,
    Blood upon their hands

    2, as sung by Iain MacKintosh, some years later

    Ibrox, Parkhead - Glasgow football grounds, homes of Celtic Glasgow and Glasgow Rangers respectively

     

     

Susannes Folksong-Notizen

Quelle: Scotland

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aktualisiert am 02.04.2010, 04.04.2003