Retro-Songteksten: Evergreens, Classics, Old-Time Favourites, Hits Uit Onze Jeugd
Dit blog (met dank aan seniorennet) is enkel voor NIET-commerciële doeleinden. Alle songteksten zijn uitsluitend eigendom van hun respectievelijke copyright eigenaars; dus ga de muziek kopen die je mooi vindt, zo steun je de artiest.
NON-profit, non-commercial blog, to help preserve the songs of our youth; hence for entertainment only. All lyrics are the copyright of their respective owners; you are encouraged to go buy their music.
Working My Way Back To You French Title: Te Garder Près De Moi Composer(s): Sandy Linzer; Denny Randell Originally performed and made famous by: The Four Seasons Covered by various other artists
I keep working my way back to you, babe With a burning love inside Yeah I'm working my way back to you babe And a happiness that died I let it get away Keep paying every day When you were so in love with me I played around like I was free Thought I could have my cake and eat it too And how I cried over losing you
See I'm down and out And I ain't about to go Living my life without you Hey every day, I made you cry I'm begging girl, 'til the day I die
I'll keep working my way back to you, babe With a burning love inside Yeah I'm working my way back to you, babe And a happiness that died I let it get away Keep paying every day
I used to love to make you cry It made me feel like a man inside If I had been a man in reality Then you'd be here baby loving me
Now my nights are long And only a lion could prowl Girl, I guess we're too slow Girl, but you're too proud And you won't give in But when I think about all I can't win
I'll keep working my way back to you, babe With a burning love inside Yeah I'm working my way back to you, babe And a happiness that died I let it get away Keep paying every day
My heart is kind of low I just gotta get back home
I'm really sorry For acting that way I'm really sorry Ooh, little girl I'm really sorry For throwing away our love Sweet little girl I'm really sorry For making you cry I really need you Don't you hear me talking to you Really sorry For telling you lies For so long Oh please
I'll keep working my way back to you, babe With a burning love inside Yeah I'm working my way back to you, babe And a happiness that died
I'll keep working my way back to you, babe With a burning love inside Yeah I'm working my way back to you, babe And a happiness that died
Working, working I'm really working Working baby Can't you see me working ...
America Is Waiting Composer(s): Brian Eno - David Byrne Performer(s): Brian Eno; David Byrne
America is waiting for a message of some sort or another Takin' it again Again! Again! Takin' it again Well now... no, no... now, we ought to be mad at the government not mad at the people Takin' it again Again! Again! Takin' it again I mean, yeah, well... wha-what're ya gonna do? America is waiting for a message of some sort or another No will whatsoever No will whatsoever! Absolutely no honor No will whatsoever No will whatsoever! Absolutely no integrity No will whatsoever No will whatsoever! I haven't seen any any any citizen over there stand up and say "Hey, just a second" No will whatsoever No will whatsoever! I mean, yeah, so... wha-what're ya gonna do? America is waiting for a message of some sort or another
Working For The Weekend Composer(s): Paul Dean; Matthew Frenette; Mike Reno Performer(s): Loverboy; Josh Gracin; Hit Crew
Everyone's watching, to see what you will do Everyone's looking at you, oh Everyone's wondering, will you come out tonight Everyone's trying to get it right, get it right
Everybody's working for the weekend Everybody wants a little romance Everybody's goin' off the deep end Everybody needs a second chance, oh You want a piece of my heart You better start from start You wanna be in the show Come on baby lets go
Everyone's looking to see if it was you Everyone wants you to come through Everyone's hoping it'll all work out Everyone's waiting they're holding out
Everybody's working for the weekend Everybody wants a little romance Everybody's goin' off the deep end Everybody needs a second chance, oh You want a piece of my heart You better start from start You wanna be in the show Come on baby lets go
You want a piece of my heart You better start from start You wanna be in the show Come on baby lets go
You want a piece of my heart You better start from start You wanna be in the show Come on baby lets go
America Drinks and Goes Home Composer(s): Frank Zappa First release by: The Mothers of Invention - 1967
(Here's a special request) (Hope you enjoy it)
I tired to find How my heart could be so blind Dear How could I be fooled just like the rest You came on strong with your Fast car and your class ring Sad eyes and your ... ... I fell for the whole thing I don't regret for having met Up with a girl who Breaks hearts Like they were nothing at all I've done it too Now I know just what it feels like And just like I said I have no regrets
Well it's about time to close... I hope you've had as much fun as we have! Don't forget the jam session Sunday!... Mandy Tension will be by playing his xylophone troupe! It'll be a lot of fun! Monday night is the Dance Contest Night... Twist Contest!... We give away ah... peanut butter and jelly!... There'll be sandwiches for all of you... I hope we've played your requests... the songs you like to hear... Last call for alcohol!... Drink it up folks... Wonderful!... Nice to see you Bob, how's it going? How's your kids?... Wonderful!... Nice to see you, yes... Oh, Bill Bailey?... Ah we'll get to that to- morrow night... Caravan with a drum solo?... right!... We'll do that!... Wonderful!... Nice to see you again!... Yeah!...la, la, la... Down at the Pompadour A-Go-Go!!... Vo-do-de-oo-pee-pee... Shoobe-doot 'n-dadada, ada-da-dahhh ... Nya-da-da, nya-da-da... 'nite all!...
Working Class Hero Composer(s): John Lennon Originally performed by: John Lennon Covered by various other artists
As soon as you're born, they make you feel small By giving you no time instead of it all Til the pain is so big you feel nothing at all
A working class hero is something to be A working class hero is something to be
They hurt you at home, and they hit you at school They hate you if you're clever and they despise a fool Til you're so f***ing crazy you can't follow their rules
A working class hero is something to be A working class hero is something to be
When they tortured and scared you for 20 odd years Then they expect you to pick a career When you can't really function you're so full of fear
A working class hero is something to be A working class hero is something to be
Keep you doped with religion, and sex, and TV And you think you're so clever and classless and free But you're still f***ing peasants as far as I can see
A working class hero is something to be A working class hero is something to be
There's room at the top, they are telling you still But first you must learn how to smile as you kill If you want to be like the folks on the hill
A working class hero is something to be A working class hero is something to be
If you want to be a hero, well just follow me If you want to be a hero, well just follow me
Workin' On A Groovy Thing Composer(s): Roger Atkins; Neil Sedaka Performer(s): The 5th Dimension; and various other artists
When I saw you I knew that I was gonna love you And everyday I thought of how I'm gonna love you Now you're here next to me And ecstasy is a reality I feel good when you are near I'm alive cause you are here Working on a groovy thing baby Working on a groovy thing Working on a groovy thing baby Let's not rush in we'll take it slow
Before I met you I know my lips were only wasted Cause you have got the sweetest kiss I ever tasted Music moves us along Your arms around me are snug and warm Happiness is in my soul I'm about to lose all control Working on a groovy thing baby Working on a groovy thing Working on a groovy thing baby Let's not rush in we'll take it slow Working on a groovy thing
America ((Italian Version: America (by Bruno Lauzi) - 1973)) Composer(s): Paul Simon First release by: Simon & Garfunkel - 1968 Covered by multiple other artists
Let us be lovers we'll marry our fortunes together I've got some real estate here in my bag So we bought a pack of cigarettes and Mrs. Wagner's pies And we walked off to look for America Cathy I said as we boarded a Greyhound in Pittsburgh Michigan seems like a dream to me now It took me four days to hitchhike from Saginaw I've gone to look for America Laughing on the bus playing games with the faces She said the man in the gabardine suit was a spy I said be careful his bowtie is really a camera Toss me a cigaret I think there's one in the raincoat We smoked the last one an hour ago So I looked at the scenary she read her magazine And the moon rose over an open field Cathy I'm lost I said though I knew she was sleeping I'm empty and aching and I don't know why Counting the cars on the New Jersey Turnpike They've all come to look for America All come to look for America
Workin' Man Blues Composer(s): Merle Haggard Made famous by: Merle Haggard Covered by various other artists
It's a big job just gettin' by with nine kids and a wife I been a workin' man dang near all my life I'll be working Long as my two hands are fit to use I'll drink my beer in a tavern Sing a little bit of these workin' man blues
I keep my nose on the grindstone, I work hard every day Might get a little tired on the weekend, after I draw my pay But I'll go back workin' Come Monday morning I'm right back with the crew I'll drink a little beer that evening Sing a little bit of these workin' man blues
Hey hey, the workin' man, the workin' man like me I ain't never been on welfare, that's one place I won't be 'Cause I'll be working Long as my two hands are fit to use I drink a little beer in a tavern Sing a little bit of these workin' man blues
Sometimes I think about leaving, do a little bummin' around I wanna throw my bills out the window, catch a train to another town But I go back working I gotta buy my kids a brand new pair of shoes Yeah, drink a little beer in a tavern Cry a little bit of these workin' man blues
Hey hey, the working man, the working man like me I ain't never been on welfare, that's one place I won't be 'Cause I'll be working Long as my two hands are fit to use I drink a little beer in a tavern Sing a little bit of these workin' man blues
Yeah, drink a little beer in a tavern Cry a little bit of these workin' man blues
America Composer(s): José Luis Perales First release by: José Luis Perales - 1991 Covered by multiple other artists
Me hueles a merengue y a bolero a caña y a café Me hueles a corrido y a charango carnavalito y miel Me hueles a maracas y a guitarras a gaucho solitario y a sabana a piel morena y sal Me hueles a canela y a banana herida siempre y siempre maltratada soñando libertad
Coro
América, América Me hueles a guayaba a cordillera helada a tierra verde y lluvia tropical me hueles a pradera y a eterna primavera me hueles a futuro y libertad (2)
Me hueles a tabaco y a maíces a dátiles y a arroz Me hueles a inmigrantes q se fueron cantando una canción Me hueles a torrente y a quebrada a sangre campesina derramada para tu libertad Me hueles a mujer enamorada herida siempre y siempre abandonada soñando frente al mar
Workin' For The Man Composer(s): Roy Orbison Performer(s): Roy Orbison
Hey now you better listen to me everyone of you We got a lotta lotta lotta lotta work to do Forget about your woman and that water can Today were working for the man
well pick up your feet we've got a deadline to meet I'm gonna see you make it on time Don't relax I want elbows and backs I wanna see everybody from behind
'Cause your working for the man working for the man you gotta make him a hand when you're working for the man
Oh well I'm pickin' 'em up and I'm laying 'em down I believe he's gonna work me into the ground I pull to the left I heave to the right I wanna kill him but it wouldn't be right
'Cause I'm working for the man working for the man gotta make him a hand when you're working for the man
Well the boss man's daughter sneaks me water everytime her daddy's down the line she says meet me tonight love a me right and everything is gonna be fine So I slave all day without much pay 'cause I'm just abiding my time 'cause the company and the daughter you see Their both gonna be all mine
Yah I'm gonna be the man gonna be the man Gotta make him a hand if I'm gonna be the man
working for the man working for the man gonna be the man gonna be the man Gotta make him a hand working for the man
America Composer(s): Prince Performer(s): Prince & the Revolution
Yeah Peace!
Aristocrats on a mountain climb Making money, losing time Communism is just a word But if the government turn over It'll be the only word that's heard
America, America God shed his grace on thee America, America Keep the children free
Little sister making minimum wage Living in a 1-room jungle-monkey cage Can't get over, she's almost dead She may not be in the black But she's happy she ain't in the red
America, America God shed his grace on thee America, America Keep the children free
Freedom Love Joy Peace
Jimmy Nothing never went 2 school They made him pledge allegiance He said it wasn't cool Nothing made Jimmy proud Now Jimmy lives on a mushroom cloud
America, America God shed his grace on thee America, America Keep the children free
America, America God shed his grace on thee America, America Keep the children free
Freedom Love Joy Peace
boom, boom, boom, boom the bomb go boom, boom, boom, boom the bomb go boom. Teacher, why won't Jimmy pledge allegiance?
Workin' For MCA Composer(s): Ed King; Ronnie VanZant Performer(s): Lynyrd Skynyrd; Particle; Hank Williams Jr.
Seven years of hard luck, comin' down on me From the Florida border, yea up to Nashville Tennessee I worked in every joint you can name, mister every honkytonk Along come Mr Yankee Slicker, sayin' maybe you're what I want
(Chorus) Want you to sign your contract Want you to sign today Gonna give you lots of money Workin' For MCA
9000 dollars, that's all we could win They're gonna take me out to California gonna make me a superstar Just pay me all of my money and mister maybe you won't get a scar
(Chorus)
Suckers took my money since I was seventeen If it ain't no pencil pusher, it got to be a honkytonk queen But I'll sign my contract baby, and I wan't you people to know That every penny that I make, I'm gonna see where my money goes
Workin' At The Car Wash Blues Composer(s): Jim Croce Performer(s): Jim Croce; Brian Collins
Well, I had just got out from the county prison Doin' ninety days for non-support Tried to find me an executive position But no matter how smooth I talked They wouldn't listen to the fact that I was a genius The man say, "We got all that we can use" Now I got them steadily depressin', low down mind messin' Working at the car wash blues
Well, I should be sittin' in an air conditioned office in a swivel chair Talkin' some trash to the secretaries Sayin', "Here, now mam-ma, come on over here" Instead, I'm stuck here rubbin' these fenders with a rag And walkin' home in soggy old shoes With them steadily depressin', low down mind messin' Workin' at the car wash blues
You know a man of my ability He should be smokin' on a big cigar But till I get myself straight I guess I'll just have to wait In my rubber suit a-rubbin' these cars
Well, all I can do is a-shake my head You might not believe that it's true For workin' at this end of Niagara Falls Is an undiscovered Howard Hughes So baby, don't expect to see me With no double martini in any high-brow society news 'Cause I got them steadily depressin', low down mind messin' Workin' at the car wash blues
So, baby, don't expect to see me With no double martini in any high-brow society news 'Cause I got them steadily depressin', low down mind messin' Workin' at the car wash blues
America (Marilyn Cooper, Chita Rivera & The Shark Girls)
America Composer(s): Leonard Bernstein - Stephen Sondheim First release by: Marilyn Cooper, Chita Rivera & The Shark Girls - 1957 Covered by multiple other artists
Rosalia: Puerto Rico... You lovely island ... Island of tropical breezes Always the pineapples growing Always the coffee blossoms blowing...
Anita: Puerto Rico You ugly island... Island of tropic diseases Always the hurricanes blowing Always the population growing... And the money owing And the babies crying And the bullets flying I like the island Manhattan - Smoke on your pipe and put that in!
Others (except Rosalia): I like to be in America! Okay by me in America! Everything free in America For a small fee in America
Rosalia: I like the city of San Juan
Anita: I know a boat you can get on
Rosalia: Hundreds of flowers in full bloom
Anita: Hundreds of people in each room!
All (except Rosalia): Automobile in America Chromium steel in America Wire-spoke wheel in America Very big deal in America!
Rosalia: I'll drive a Buick through San Juan
Anita: If there's a road you can drive on!
Rosalia: I'll give my cousins a free ride
Anita: How can you get all of them inside?
All (except Rosalia): Immigrant goes to America Many hellos in America Nobody knows in America Puerto Rico's in America! (The girls dance around Rosalia)
Rosalia: I'll bring a TV to San Juan
Anita: If there's a current to turn on!
Rosalia: I'll give them new washing machine
Anita: What have they got there to keep clean?
All (except Rosalia): I like the shores of America! Comfort is yours in America! Knobs on the doors in America Wall-to-wall floors in America! (They dance)
Work Song
((Spanish Version: La Cancion Del Trabajo (by Raphael) - 1966))
Composer(s): Nathaniel Adderley - Oscar Brown Jr.
First release by: Nathaniel Adderley - 1960; Oscar Brown Jr. - 1960
Originally performed by: Oscar Brown Jr.
Covered by multiple other artists
Breaking rocks out here on the chain gang
Breaking rocks and serving my time
Breaking rocks out here on the chain gang
Because they done convicted me of crime
Hold it steady right there while I hit it
Well reckon that ought to get it
Been working and working
But I still got so terribly far to go
I commited crime lord I needed
Crime of being hungry and poor
I left the grocery store man bleeding
When they caught me robbing his store
Hold it steady right there while I hit it
Well reckon that ought to get it
Been working and working
But I still got so terribly far to go
I heard the judge say five years
On chain-gang you gonna go
I heard the judge say five years labor
I heard my old man scream "lordy, no!"
Hold it right there while I hit it
Well reckon that ought to get it
Been working and working
But I still got so terribly far to go
Gonna see my sweet honey bee
Gonna break this chain off to run
Gonna lay down somewhere shady
Lord I sure am hot in the sun
Hold it right there while I hit it
Well reckon that ought to get it
Been workin and workin
Been workin and slavin
An workin and workin
But I still got so terribly far to go
America Composer(s): Miguel Gallardo Performer(s): Miguel Gallardo
De Buenos Aires a Nueva York he desnudado tu cuerpo entero con mi guitarra de trovador y con mi alma de aventurero America, America Y ví a tus niños sonreir y ví en tus campos crecer el trigo con tus mujeres fuí felíz y de tus hombres me siento amigo America, America Y una lágrima clara hoy recorre tu cara y tu risa se apaga... America Y tus flores se mueren y en tus tierras no llueve y tus guerras te hieren... America Quiero ver que te tu estrella entre miles de ellas vuelva a ser la más bella... America Quiero verte de nuevo levantarte del suelo y elevarte hasta el cielo... America Soy, solamente, un soñador que ni siquiera, nació en tu suelo pero que un día te conoció y desde entonces, sé que te quiero America, America Y una lágrima clara hoy recorre tu cara y tu risa se apaga... America Y tus flores se mueren y en tus tierras no llueve y tus guerras te hieren... America Quiero ver que te tu estrella entre miles de ellas vuelva a ser la más bella... America Quiero verte de nuevo levantarte del suelo y elevarte hasta el cielo... America America, America America Quiero ver que te tu estrella entre miles de ellas vuelva a ser la más bella... America Quiero verte de nuevo levantarte del suelo y elevarte hasta el cielo... America America, America... America America, America... America America, America... America
Words, Words, Words Composer(s): Léo Ferré Performer(s): Léo Ferré
Et qu'ont-ils à rentrer chaque année les Artistes? J'avais sur le futur des mains de cordonnier Chaussant les astres de mes peaux ensemellées La conscience dans le spider je mets les voiles Et quarante millions de mètres de tailleur Prenaient la taille à la putain de Galilée La terre a bu le coup et penche du Tropique Elle reste agrippée à mon temps cellulaire Je déchargeais des tombereaux de souvenirs Nous étions une histoire et n'avions rien à dire Moi je prendrai la quatrième dimension Pour trisser dans l'azur mes jambes migratrices Le mur instantané que je dresse à la Chine Mao c'était le nom de ce Viking flamand Le tissu d'esquimau vieillit beaucoup plus vite Des plaies sur des grabats du Chili à Lisbonne S'exténuaient en équations de cicatrices Le malade concret et l'interne distrait Sont allés boire un pot au Café de la Morgue Des vieillards le chéquier à la main à la banque Faisaient des virements de testicules abstraits L'embryon vaginé derviche dans le manque Un pavot est venu l'asperger cette nuit Mon berceau féodal et mes couilles gothiques Des faux-nez des trognons des tissus ajoutés Fondaient sous les sunlights de l'Opéra Comique La Standard Oil prend du bidon et du gin fizz La fièvre est descendue ce soir à Mexico O ce parfum diapré dans la nuit des cigales Dans une discothèque on a mis des barreaux Les fenêtres s'en vont de la gorge et du squale Ça sent la perfection dans ces rues amputées Saint-Denis c'est un saint au derrière doublé La fièvre est descendue ce soir dans un bordel Et fallait voir comment ça soufflait dans la cale Il y a partout des cons bordés d'oiseaux Comme des lettres cheminant en parchemin Nightingale O chansons crevées à minuit trente J'ai le concile dans la main qui se lamente Devant le mur à faire un peu des oraisons La Folie m'a tenu la main à sa culotte On eût dit de la mer s'en allant pour de bon Viens petit dévêts-toi prends du large et jouis Je sais des paravents comme un zoom d'espérance
Que font-ils? Qui sont-ils? Ces gens qu'on tient en laisse Dans les ports au shopping Au bordel à la messe? Et ces mômes qu'on pourrait S'carrer entre deux trains Histoire de leur montrer Qu'on a du face-à-main... Ils ont voté Ils ont voté Comme on prend un barbiturique Et ils ont mis la République Au fond d'un vase à reposer Les experts ont analysé Ce qu'il y avait au fond du vase Il n'y avait rien qu'un peu de vase
Et qu'ont-ils à rentrer chaque année les Artistes? J'avais sur le futur des mains de cordonnier Chaussant les astres de mes peaux ensemellées La conscience dans le spider je mets les voiles...
Shakespeare aussi etait un terroriste
"Words... words... words..." disait-il
Videla? En français: Budelle, tripes En italien: Budella, tripes
