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Over-there

Af George M. Cohan i 1917

Amerikanske flag dannet af mænd
Gutter hør nu her:
Alle mand ”Til gevær”.
Pligten kalder os;
Off we go into the wild blue yonder,
Climbing high into the sun;
It’s the roar and rattle of Freedom’s battle
That’s calling us over the sea,
This time, we will all make certain
That this time is the last time
Afsted i børn af fædrelandet,
oprunden er nu hæderens dag.
Tyranniet har vi forbandet,
Den bærer en ørn med vingefang,
Vore fædre hørte hans røst engang:
Værg, værg vor Fane!
It’s a long way to Tipperary, it’s a
long way to go;
It’s a long way to Tipperary to the
sweetest girl I know!
Vi ved, at krig er en dårlig ting. Og dog er det somme tider nødvendigt at kæmpe. Men alligevel er krig en dårlig ting, og enhver der påstår det modsatte lyver. Men krig er en yderst kompliceret og svær ting at skrive sandfærdigt om.
Over there er en amerikansk sang fra 1917, som under begge verdenskrige blev populær blandt de amerikanske tropper. Det er forståeligt, da den handler om amerikanske soldater ”over there” i Europa.

Den Juni 29 1936 tildelte Præsident Franklin D. Roosevelt Cohan the Congressional Gold Medal for denne og andre sange.

Sangen kan høres nederst på siden og selvom fremførelsen er gammel er den femstjernet værd at høre.
Johnnie, get your gun,
Get your gun, get your gun,
Take it on the run,
On the run, on the run.
Hear them calling, you and me,
Every son of liberty.
Hurry right away,
No delay, go today,
Make your daddy glad
To have had such a lad.
Tell your sweetheart not to pine,
To be proud her boy's in line.
(chorus sung twice/kor sunget to gange)


Johnnie, get your gun,
Get your gun, get your gun,
Johnnie show the Hun
Who's a son of a gun.
Hoist the flag and let her fly,
Yankee Doodle do or die.
Pack your little kit,
Show your grit, do your bit.
Yankee to the ranks,
From the towns and the tanks.
Make your mother proud of you,
And the old Red, White and Blue.
(chorus sung twice/kor sunget to gange)


Chorus/kor
Over there, over there,
Send the word, send the word over there -
That the Yanks are coming,
The Yanks are coming,
The drums rum-tumming
Ev'rywhere.
So prepare, say a pray'r,
Send the word, send the word to beware.
We'll be over, we're coming over,
And we won't come back till it's over
Over there.



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