The Deportees Club
Christy Moore Lyrics


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At the Arrividerci Roma night club bar and grill
Standing in the fibre-glass ruin watching time stand still
All your troubles you'll confess
To another faceless, backless dress
Schnapps, Chianti, Porter and Ouzo
Pernod Vodka, Sambuca, I love you so poor deportee.

There's a fading beauty talking in riddles
Rome burns down and everybody fiddles
The poor deportee
But a thousand dollars won't buy you a yankee wife, alas
There's a thousand years of history
drowned in that whiskey glass

Now I wish that she was mine
I could have been a king in 6/8 time - poor deportee
Schnapps, Chianti, Porter and Ouzo
Pernod Vodka, Sambuca, I love you so poor deportee

It's a brittle charm, but the lady's had enough
Still she wrote her number on your paper cuff
It's hard to know when to start and when to stop
Her pillow talk is nothing more than talking shop

When I came here tonight my pockets were overflowing
She stole my return ticket and I didn't even know it
I prayed to the saints and all the martyrs
For the secret life of Frank Sinatra
And all of these things have to come to pass
In America the law is a piece of ass - deportee

Schnapps, Chianti, Porter and Ouzo
Pernod, Vodka, Sambuca, I love you so
Poor deportee.
Schnapps, Chianti, Porter and Ouzo




Pernod, Vodka, Sambuca, I love you so - deportee.
I love you so poor deportee.

Overall Meaning

Christy Moore's song "The Deportees Club" is a poignant and melancholic reflection on the experiences of migrants who leave their homes and families behind in search of work, but who ultimately find themselves displaced and disconnected from their roots. The song is set in a nightclub in Rome, where the singer observes the struggles and heartaches of fellow migrants who have come to drown their sorrows in alcohol and temporary companionship. The opening lines describe the scene in vivid detail, as the singer watches the other club-goers "confess" their troubles to anonymous strangers while consuming a variety of alcoholic beverages.


The song's chorus, "Schnapps, Chianti, Porter and Ouzo/Pernod Vodka, Sambuca, I love you so poor deportee," conveys a sense of longing and desperation, as the singer seeks solace in alcohol and the companionship of others who share his plight. The second verse introduces a "fading beauty talking in riddles" who speaks of the decline and decay of Rome, and the poverty and hopelessness of the migrants who live there. The singer muses on the irony of the situation, as the migrants come to Italy in search of a better life but find only disillusionment and despair.


The final verse is perhaps the most heartbreaking, as the singer realizes that he has been robbed of his return ticket and must now face an uncertain future in a foreign land. He prays for guidance and inspiration from the "saints and martyrs" and wonders whether he too will be consigned to the "Deportees Club" of displaced and disheartened migrants. The song ends on a somber note, with the singer still hopelessly seeking comfort and companionship in the face of overwhelming adversity.


Line by Line Meaning

At the Arrividerci Roma night club bar and grill
I am at a club in Rome called Arrivederci Roma, which is also a restaurant where people come to drink and eat.


Standing in the fibre-glass ruin watching time stand still
I am standing in the ruins of a club made of fiber-glass, watching time pass without anything changing.


All your troubles you'll confess To another faceless, backless dress
People come to this club to pour out their sorrows to strangers who are dressed for anonymity.


Schnapps, Chianti, Porter and Ouzo Pernod Vodka, Sambuca, I love you so poor deportee.
I am drinking a lot of alcohol, such as Schnapps, Chianti, Porter, Ouzo, Pernod, and Sambuca, and I feel sorry for myself, as if I am a poor deportee.


There's a fading beauty talking in riddles Rome burns down and everybody fiddles The poor deportee
There is a woman who is losing her beauty and talks in cryptic phrases. The city of Rome may be in turmoil, but the people in the club are ignoring it all, except me, who feels like a poor deportee.


But a thousand dollars won't buy you a yankee wife, alas There's a thousand years of history Drowned in that whiskey glass
Even though I have a thousand dollars, I still can't buy an American wife. As I drink whiskey, I am aware that the drink contains a long history.


Now I wish that she was mine I could have been a king in 6/8 time - poor deportee Schnapps, Chianti, Porter and Ouzo Pernod Vodka, Sambuca, I love you so poor deportee
I now long for the fading beauty who was talking in riddles. If she were mine, I would feel like a king and dance in 6/8 time. However, I am still a poor deportee who loves drinking more Schnapps, Chianti, Porter, Ouzo, Pernod, and Sambuca.


It's a brittle charm, but the lady's had enough Still she wrote her number on your paper cuff It's hard to know when to start and when to stop Her pillow talk is nothing more than talking shop
The fading beauty is charming but fragile in spirit. She gave me her number, but it's tough to figure out when our conversation is for real or just as routine as her shop talk.


When I came here tonight my pockets were overflowing She stole my return ticket and I didn't even know it I prayed to the saints and all the martyrs For the secret life of Frank Sinatra And all of these things have to come to pass In America the law is a piece of ass - deportee
I came to the club with a lot of money, but the fading beauty stole my return ticket without me noticing. I prayed to saints and martyrs for Frank Sinatra's private life. However, I can't avoid the inevitable. In America, the law is unreliable, and I am still a poor deportee.


Schnapps, Chianti, Porter and Ouzo Pernod, Vodka, Sambuca, I love you so Poor deportee. Schnapps, Chianti, Porter and Ouzo Pernod, Vodka, Sambuca, I love you so - deportee. I love you so poor deportee.
I keep drinking more alcohol, Schnapps, Chianti, Porter, Ouzo, Pernod, and Sambuca, and feel sorry for myself, as if I am a poor deportee who loves the alcohol, the club, and everything that goes with it.




Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Written by: ELVIS COSTELLO

Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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Comments from YouTube:

dogsbolls

Big Costello fan but I think this version is brilliant, great upload, cheers

ColonelFreak

Thanks for uploading this!

imbwinkle

this is off of a collection cd Songs Of Elvis Costello: Bespoke Songs, Lost Dogs, Detours & Rendezvous. Its more of an irish dirge as originally intended. EC's version was more modern irish phrasing and lilting. Both are excellent, but I find myself whistling this one far more often

Paul Brimble

Just beautiful

dogsbolls

Brilliant

Paul Brimble

Just bloody lovely. An anthem for the displaced

william chesterfield

This is from " The Voyage " album.