Текст песни: Last Cup of Sorrow + перевод

This is the story of the Borstal Boy

Brendan from Dublin, pride and joy

Drinker with writing problems, he said

A volunteer for I.R.A

I am a rebel, I am a poet

I am the son of this Island, just like Joyce

I’ll never make my toast to the queen

Fellas, sing this song with me

Let’s celebrate to my last cup of sorrow

Let’s be delight 'till the end of the night

Chased by the men I’ll be gone for tomorrow

I’ll never feel sorry for what I believe

I’ll never feel sorry for what I believe

Woke up in Bridwell, next to my friends

I shot the pigs and this is my blame

Somehow the lord took pity on me

Here comes the screw for my comrades

Look at this man, soon to be hanged

Stare at his eyes and look at his hands

«I'm not shaking, I’ll never will

Brendan sing this song for me»

Let’s celebrate to my last cup of sorrow

Let’s be delight 'till the end of the night

Chased by the men I’ll be gone for tomorrow

I’ll never feel sorry for what I believe

I’ll never feel sorry for what I believe

Now I’m back in this old town

I want to write my plays and fuck around

And if you walk off Dorset street

Let’s sit for a shot and drink with me

He was a rebel, he was a poet

This is the story of the Borstal Boy

He was a writer, he had a dream

Fellas sing this song for him

Let’s celebrate to my last cup of sorrow

Let’s be delight 'till the end of the night

Chased by the men I’ll be gone for tomorrow

I’ll never feel sorry for what I believe

I’ll never feel sorry for what I believe

I’ll never feel sorry for what I believe

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