An Gorta Mór


Mediterranean Floor
Techno Guru
An Gorta Mór
I. Emerald Island
II. Phytophthora infestans
III. Bridget O’Donnell
IV. The Great Famine
V. Doolough Lake
VI. The Docks of Limerick
VII. Regina Oceani
VIII. Long cónra
IX. Ghosts in America

Fabio De Libertis – bass guitar.
Runal – lead vocals.
Dario Lastella – guitars, keyboards, synths, vocals.
Lino Mesina – drums, percussions, vocals.
Claudio Lapenna – acoustic and electric piano, keyboards, organ, vocals.

Lino Giugliano – keyboards and organ on Reptilarium, The Great Famine and Doolough Lake.
Alessandra Santovito (Hexperos– vocals on Regina Oceani.
Francesco Forgione (Hexperos– bhodrán on The Docks of Limerick.
Vincenzo Cervelli – vocals on The Docks of Limerick, backing vocals on Ghosts in America.
Matteo Colombo – violin on Emerald Island and The Docks of Limerick.
Marco Grossi – backing vocals on Ghosts in America.

Cover design by Fabienne Di Girolamo.
Mastering by Steve Kitch (Audiomaster).
Produced by Dario Lastella.
Released 2018-08-27.

Music and Lyrics by Dario Lastella except Mediterranean Floor (Music by Dario Lastella, Lyrics by Dario Lastella and Claudio Lapenna) and Reptilarium (Music by Dario Lastella, Lino Mesina and Fabio De Libertis, Lyrics by Dario Lastella).

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Mediterranean Floor
Words by Dario Lastella and Claudio Lapenna. Music by Dario Lastella.

Tongues of fire licked away my home.
Roars of guns smashed down the doors.
Run, my little boy, never look back.
Run, my brave boy, with your broken leg.
Run little boy!
Run my brave boy!

I walked through villages and towns,
begging for some water and a bowl of rice
I crossed the Cliffs of Bandiagara,
where the hands of men turn into Sahara.
Desert! All around me, I can see just
Desert! Deep inside me, I can feel just
Desert! All I used to be now it’s just
Desert! Drying my human needs.
And now I’m drowning down through sand and stones,
Emotional flashbacks are desertifying my soul.
I can hear those voices, I can feel my anguish growing.
I scream three times, the ghibli is still blowing.
Tinzaouaten, Tamanrasset, Tamdjert.
El Auenat, Ash Shwayrif, Zuwarah, bahr.

At last I can sleep again.
I’m rocked by the waves and I feel peaceful again.
Blue, my eyes see only blue,
our life is a lie, but I finally know the truth.
Death, how many people are dying around me now?
White men are jettisoning some extra cargo.
Me, will I ever see those European shores?
Or will I lie on this nice Mediterranean floor?

Techno Guru
Words and Music by Dario Lastella.

Are you 40? Crisis.
Are you 50? Crisis.
Need a job? Crisis.
Need more money? Crisis.
Follow me. I know the way.
Follow me. It’s the only way.
Follow me. We’ll stand together.
Follow me. Be like me.
We are one. Stay with me.
I need you. Stay with me.
Give me your faith. Stay with me.
Feed my family. Stay with me.
One more week. You need to pay.
One more month. You’ll reach the top.
One more year. You’re so beautiful.
One more life. I love you.
Don’t go away. I’ll catch you.
Don’t go away. I’ll beat you.
Don’t go away. I’ll crush you.
Don’t go away. I need you.
Now I gotta apply for a job.
Apply for a job…
Apply for a job…
Apply for a job…

Words & Music by Dario Lastella.

You can hide your awkwardness
behind your old-fashioned glasses.
You can crack a smile while
you’re turning your face away from me.
You can use your heavy coat
as a shield to protect your oath.
You can try to mend your heart,
but now you can’t start.

Many days slip through your hands.
Many nights roll down your eyes.
You sit quietly by a window on your own,
falling leaves draw the path of nevermore.

Can you bear this burden again?
Can’t you see you’re going nowhere?
Look behind those old willow trees,
nobody else should paint your own dreams.
Violet be a good girl! Run away from here!
Violet be a good girl! Run to your windmills.
Violet be a good girl! Don’t get old before you grow.
Violet be a good girl! Start to grow before you get old.

Words by Dario Lastella. Music by Dario Lastella, Lino Mesina and Fabio De Libertis.

Please, please stop running baby now!
Tears, dry your tears on your gruesome shiner.
Weak, baby, baby don’t desert me now!
Fear, don’t be scared, sometimes I lose control.

Broken mirrors,
Clean up these blood drops here.
Lay with me once more,
We’re two lizards in the sun.

Please, please sit next to me.
Kiss, kiss me darling, look at me!
Lips, I want to taste your blood on your lips.
Freeze! Don’t move, baby! Now you’re mine!

Sento, io sento, io vedo, io tocco,
un solo rintocco richiama la notte più scura,
nascosta all’interno di un codice antico
rimasto rinchiuso lì dentro la testa.

Sento… io sento, io annuso, io tocco,
ma il sangue è più freddo e l’occhio è diverso,
e ombre di verde appaiono lievi
coprendo il pallore di queste mie dita.

Sento… io sento, io assaporo, io tocco!
Io apro la pelle con denti affilati
io sento il sapore selvaggio del sangue,
non posso fermare la forza violenta
che nasce da quel difetto lontano
che striscia feroce sulle nostre coscienze.

An Gorta Mór
Words & Music by Dario Lastella.

Emerald Island
Emerald Island, smile of the gods,
from Glendalough monastery to the Cliffs of Moher.
Seeking green pastures the breeders grew strong,
Emerald Island shone.
Emerald Island, gift of our Lord,
from Glenveagh Castle to the Churches of Cork.
With food in abundance the landlords grew strong,
Emerald Island shone.
Emerald Island, gem of the sea,
From the Dingle Harbour to St. Stephen’s Green.
In 1845 the farmers grew thin,
Emerald Island grieved.
Emerald Island, triumph of green,
from the River Shannon to the Irish Sea.
The starving tenants dug holes in the field.
Emerald Island grieved.

Phytophthora infestans

Bridget O’Donnell
We owed some rent in November,
they commenced knocking down the house.
At this time I was lying in fever,
when my neighbours carried me out.
I was lying in a cabin,
when I had my child born dead.
All my family got the fever,
when my son died, he was thirteen.

The Great Famine
Land, you sacred land.
Land, you cursed land.
Your rotten fruits
are poison for your sons,
through your putrid roots
you’re spreading, you’re swelling an gorta mór!

Doolough Lake
Hundreds starving people walked from Louisburgh,
looking for an entry to the workhouse.
Hundreds dying people found the door closed,
the Board of Guardians denied even some food.
Head back home, walker,
if you still have somewhere to call home.
Head back home, you destitute,
if you still have something to call home.
Snow began to fall
while they were crawling back home
Many of them began to fall,
They lay down in the Doolough Lake.

The docks of Limerick
You innkeeper, pour some booze for my friends!
I made some good business, good deals on the docks of Limerick.
I am just a sailor, I ship some goods from Limerick.

The heaviest is the cargo, the richest is the sailor as you see.
Meat and butter travel East, flesh and bones travel West by the sea from Limerick.
I am just a sailor, I ship my merchandise from Limerick.

Regina Oceani
Sailor, you steer your wailing ship.
Breathe, feel the grief.
Thousands souls are lost among the waves.
Feel, scream your greed!
Domina regina oceani
imperat ut interrumpas istam caedem.
Thou shall not pass!

Long cónra

Ghosts in America
That coffin ship is moving slowly
to the Grosse Isle, the door to Canada.
No more sounds on the vessel,
no more voices, no more grief.
Ghosts are sailing to America,
starving prisoners of the sea.
The Royal Navy boards that stray ship,
The Jacks set a fire to set them free.
God Almighty how could this happen?
Wind is lifting ashes to heaven.
May these destitutes rest in peace.
May their spirits fly on the sea.
No, this could not happen anymore.
No one will lie in the hold of ships.
No one will die of hunger anymore.
New men will paint new centuries.

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