Texty písní › Simon & Garfunkel › Wednesday Morning, 3AM › He Was My Brother
He Was My Brother
Five years older than I
He was my brother
Twenty-three years old the day he died
Freedom writer
They cursed my brother to his face
Go home outsider
This town's gonna be your buryin' place
He was singin' on his knees
An angry mob trailed along
They shot my brother dead
Because he hated what was wrong
He was my brother
Tears can't bring him back to me
He was my brother
And he died so his brothers could be free
He died so his brothers could be free
O pět let starší než já
Byl můj bratr
Dvacettři let v den, kdy zemřel
Svobodný spisovatel
Proklínali mého bratra kvůli jeho obličeji
Jdi domů outsidře
Toto město bude tvůj hrob
Zpíval na kolenou
Rozzuřený dav ho vlekl s sebou
Zatřelili mého bratra
Protože nenáviděl zlo
Byl můj bratr
Slzy mi ho nemohou vrátit
Byl můj bratr
Zemřel, aby jeho bratři mohli být volní
Zemřel, takže jeho bratři mohli být volní
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