Текст песни
From the back streets of Cardiff to a hall in St. Vincent's
A boathouse in Larne to a bench in Times Square
They are tolling the bells for the Sparrow of Swansea
Whispering his poems, they are sending him prayers
Oh, see how he flies, the Sparrow of Swansea
Sparrow of Swansea, Lord, see how he sails
Over the snail-horn churches, over the three-legged horses
Through the grey misty mornings in the southwest of Wales
All the pubs, they come open at half past eleven
You are likely to find him down at Brown's Hotel
Or the Mermaid, the Three Lamps, the Boar's Head, the Crosshouse
And back on around to the Worm's Head Hotel
Oh, see how he flies, the Sparrow of Swansea
Sparrow of Swansea, Lord, see how he sails
Over the snail-horn churches, over the three-legged horses
Through the grey misty mornings in the southwest of Wales
In the White Horse Tavern on a grey New York evening
The Sparrow of Swansea was wounded in flight
Raging with whiskey, he lived out his poetry
He did not go gentle into that good night
Oh, see how he flies, the Sparrow of Swansea
Sparrow of Swansea, Lord, see how he sails
Over the snail-horn churches, over the three-legged horses
Through the grey misty mornings in the southwest of Wales
Do not go gentle into that good night
Do not go gentle into that good night
Do not go gentle into that good night
We must rage against the dying of the light