Donderdag 10 oktober 1974
Forty Shades Of Green
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Alle songteksten zijn uitsluitend eigendom van hun respectievelijke copyright eigenaars; dus ga de muziek kopen die je mooi vindt, zo steun je de artiest.
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All lyrics are the copyright of their respective owners; you are encouraged to go buy their music.
Forty Shades Of Green
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Woensdag 9 oktober 1974
The Green Door
The Green Door
Composer(s): Bob Davie - Marvin Moore
First release by: Jim Lowe With the High Fives - 1956
Covered by multiple other artists
Midnight
One more night without sleepin'
Uuh, Watchin'
Till that mornin' comes creepin'
Green door
What's that secret you're keepin'?
There's an old piano and they play it hot
Behind the Green Door (Green Door)
Don't know what they're doin' but they laugh a lot
Behind the gren door! (Green Door)
Wish they'd let me in so I could find out
What's behind the Green Door! (Green Door)
Knocked once
Tried to tell them I'd been there
Door slammed!
Hospitality's thin there
Wonder
Just what's going on in there
Saw an eyeball peepin' through a smoky cloud
Behind the green door (Green Door)
When I said 'Joe sent me' someone laughed out loud
Behind the green door (Uuh Green Door)
All I want to do is join the happy crowd
Behind the green door! (Green Door)
Midnight
One more night without sleepin'
Watchin'
Till that mornin' comes creepin'
Green door
What's that secret you're keepin'?
There's an old piano and they play it hot
Behind the Green Door (Green Door)
Don't know what they're doin' but they laugh a lot
Behind the gren door! (Green Door)
Wish they'd let me in so I could find out
What's behind the Green Door! (Green Door)
Saw an eyeball peepin' through a smoky cloud
Behind the green door (Green Door)
When I said 'Joe sent me' someone laughed out loud
Behind the green door (ha, ha ha, oh)
All I want to do is join the happy crowd
Behind the green door! (Green Door)
Wish they'd let me in so I could find out
What's behind the Green Door! (Green Door)
Woensdag 9 oktober 1974
Those Little Things
Those Little Things
((Adapted from: Ces Petits Riens (Serge Gainsbourg) - 1964))
((Italian Version: Quei Piccoli Niente (Giangilberto Monti) - 2006))
Composer(s): Serge Gainsbourg - Boris Bergman - Paul Ives
Performer(s): Carla Bruni - 2006
No, nothing but my best, not good enough for you
'Cause nothing much is still too much to feel
Remember to forget, pretend you never knew
To beat the best and you don't leave a clue
No, nothing but the best was not enought for you
You wouldn't buy my pretty lie was true
But actting at the curtain fool is nothing new
Those little things that never leave a clue
If nothing but the best means nothing much to you
Don't count on me, just count me out, please, do
I'll never be your second best as others number two
One litlle thing that just won't let you choose
No, nothing but the best anda nothing less will do
It's more or less that loneliness I knew
But you, you had me market initials black and blue
Those little things that never laid a clue
If nothing but the best means nothing much
Don't count on me, just count me out, please, do
I'll never be your second best as others number two
One litlle thing that just won't let you choose
One litlle thing that just won't let you choose
One litlle thing that just won't let you choose
Woensdag 9 oktober 1974
Forty Days
Forty Days
((Adapted from: Thirty Days (To Come Back Home) (Chuck Berry and His Combo) - 1955))
Composer(s): Chuck Berry - Ronnie Hawkins
Performer(s): Ronnie Hawkins & The Hawks - 1959
and multiple other artists
Versions In Other Languages:
1964 - Rien Que Huit Jours (Johnny Hallyday)
1979 - Oi Kuuskytviis (Jussi & The Boys)
I'm gonna give you 40 days to get back home
I'm gonna call up a gypsy woman on the telephone
I'm gonna send out a worldwide hoo-doo there
The will be the very thing that suits you
I'm gonna see if she'll be back in 40 days
Oh, 40 days (40 days)
Oh, 40 days (40 days)
I'm gonna see if she'll be back in 40 day
I'm gonna send out a worldwide hoo-doo there
The will be the very thing that suits you
I'm gonna see if she'll be back in 40 days
I'm gonna talked to the Judge in private early this mornin'
He nearly took me to the Sheriff's Office to sign a warnin'
They gonna fore charge again' ya
That will be the very thing that'll send ya
I'm gonna see if she'll be back in 40 days
Oh, 40 days (40 days)
Oh, 40 days (40 days)
I'm gonna see if she'll be back in 40 day
I'm gonna send out a worldwide hoo-doo there
The will be the very thing that suits you
I'm gonna see if she'll be back in 40 days
Oh, 40 days (40 days)
Oh, 40 days (40 days)
I'm gonna see if she'll be back in 40 day
I'm gonna fore charge again' ya
That will be the very thing that'll send ya
I'm gonna see if she'll be back in 40 days
Dinsdag 8 oktober 1974
The Greatest Song I've Ever Heard
The Greatest Song I've Ever Heard
Performer(s): The New Seekers
Now, the greenest green I've ever seen, was the grass on which you lay
and the bluest blue was in my eyes, when you said you couldn't stay
and the biggest loss I ever took was, losing what we'd begun
and the greatest song I've ever heard, was the one we never sung
Now, the reddest red, I've always said, is the sunset coming down
soon the blackest night that kills the light, is the only thing around
And the downest down I've ever been was, when I knew my race was run
and the greatest song I've ever heard was the one we never sung
Time will keep the pain, they say, and we'll live to love another day
if you want to win, you've got to play the game
Now, the greyest grey came on the day, we were standing in the rain
and the hardest hurt I've ever known, was when you tried to ease the pain
and the longest day in history is waiting till my crying's done
and the greatest song I've ever heard was the one we never sung
And the saddest song I've ever heard was the one we fin'lly sung
Dinsdag 8 oktober 1974
Ces Petits Riens
Ces Petits Riens
Composer(s): Serge Gainsbourg
First release by: Serge Gainsbourg - 1964
Covered by multiple other artists
Versions In Other Languages:
2006 - Those Little Things (Carla Bruni)
2006 - Quei Piccoli Niente (Giangilberto Monti)
Mieux vaut n'penser à rien
Que n'pas penser du tout
Rien c'est déjà
Rien c'est déjà beaucoup
On se souvient de rien
Et puisqu'on oublie tout
Rien c'est bien mieux
Rien c'est bien mieux que tout
Mieux vaut n'penser à rien
Que de penser à vous
Ça n'me vaut rien
Ça n'me vaut rien du tout
Comme si de rien
N'était je pense à tous
Ces petits riens
Qui me venaient de vous
Si c'était trois fois rien
Trois fois rien entre nous
Evidemment
Ça ne fait pas beaucoup
Ce sont ces petits riens
Que j'ai mis bout à bout
Ces petits riens
Qui me venaient de vous
Mieux vaut pleurer de rien
Que de rire de tout
Pleurer pour un rien
C'est déjà beaucoup
Mais vous vous n'avez rien
Dans le cœur et j'avoue
Je vous envie
Je vous en veux beaucoup
Ce sont ces petits riens
Qui me venaient de vous
Les voulez-vous?
Tenez! Que voulez-vous?
Moi je ne veux pour rien
Au monde plus rien de vous
Pour être à vous
Faut être à moitié fou
Dinsdag 8 oktober 1974
Forty Cups Of Coffee
Forty Cups Of Coffee
Composer(s): Danny Overbea
Performer(s): Bill Haley;
and various other artists
Pace the floor, stop and stare
I drink a cup of coffee and start pulling out my hair
I'm drinking forty cups of coffee
Forty cups of coffee
Forty cups of coffee, waiting for you to come home
A quarter to twelve and you're still not in
The way you run around is a doggone sin
I'm drinking forty cups of coffee
Forty cups of coffee
Forty cups of coffee, waiting for you to come home
A quarter to three, I start watching the clock
The phone won't ring, so I'm waiting for your knock
I'm drinking forty cups of coffee
Forty cups of coffee
Forty cups of coffee, waiting for you to come home
Quarter to four, you ain't got home yet
I try to be cool and smoke a cigarette
I'm drinking forty cups of coffee
Forty cups of coffee
Forty cups of coffee, waiting for you to come home
You knock on the door about a quarter to five
I wanna hug you and kiss you, say thank heaven you're alive
I drank forty cups of coffee
Forty cups of coffee
Forty cups of coffee, but I'm glad you finally came home
Maandag 7 oktober 1974
The Greatest Mistake Of My Life
The Greatest Mistake Of My Life
Composer(s): James Netson
Performer(s): Sam Browne with Ambrose & his Orch.
and multiple other artists
The greatest mistake of my life
Was saying goodbye to you
I'm alone and blue and believe it's true
I pray you may forgive someday
I'm sorry I want you to know
But if there's a debt I owe
I feel that I have paid and know that I have made
The greatest mistake of my life
Maandag 7 oktober 1974
Ces Mots Stupides
Ces Mots Stupides
((Adapted from: Something Stupid (Carson and Gaile) - 1967))
Composer(s): C. Carson Parks - Maurice Tézé
Performer(s): Sacha Distel & Joanna Shimkus - 1967
and multiple other artists
Versions In Other Languages:
1967 - Qualche Stupido "Ti Amo" (Sacha Distel & Joanna Shimkus)
1967 - Dat Afgezaagde Zinnetje (Willy & Willeke Alberti)
1967 - En Lille Dumhed (Siw Malmkvist & Otto Brandenburg)
1971 - Algo Tonto (Enríque Guzmn & Silvia Pinal)
2003 - Een Dom Compliment (Jo Vally & Vanessa Chinitor)
2003 - Zoiets Onnozels (Willy Sommers, Lisa Del Bo & Luc Steeno)
Je sais que tôt ou tard
Tu voudras bien sortir un soir
En camarade, avec moi
J'essaierai d'être gai
Pour te faire rire, mais je sais
Que je ne verrais que toi!
Et quand nous serons las d'avoir dansé
Nous irons prendre un dernier verre, quand même
C'est là que je gâcherai tout...
En te Disant ces mots stupides
"Je t'aime!"
Et dans tes yeux je lirai
Que j'ai trahi notre amitié
Que je suis comme les autres!
Bien vite je m'en irai
Sans même te dire que si je t'aime
Ce n'est pas de ma faute!
Cela fait si longtemps
Que je suis là, le cœur battant
A ne plus penser qu'à toi!
A guetter ton regard
En espérant toujours y voir
Un peu de tendresse pour moi!
Mais... si à cet instant
Très doucement je sens ta main
Se poser sur le mienne...
De joie, je crois, je pleurerai
En répétant ces mots stupides
"Je t'aime!"
Mais... si à cet instant
Très doucement, je sens ta main
Se poser sur la mienne...
De joie, je crois, je pleurerai
En répétant ces mots stupides
"Je t'aime! Je t'aime! Je t'aime!"
Maandag 7 oktober 1974
Fortuosity
Fortuosity
Composer(s): Richard M. Sherman; Robert B. Sherman
Performer(s): Tommy Steele;
and various other artists
Well now, ain't this an elegant neighborhood
All the residents dressed so fine
One day off the boat am I
With a job that's nearly mine
'Tis a job with an elegant millionaire
And his elegant family
Today I move from immigrant to high society
Now you may call that luck
And you may call it fortune,
But me, meself, I call it.....
Fortuosity, that's me byword
Fortuosity, me twinkle in the eye word
Sometimes castles fall to the ground
But that's where four leaf clovers are found
Fortuosity, lucky chances
Fortuitious little happy happen-stances
I don't worry 'cause everywhere I see
That every bit of life is lit by Fortuosity
Fortuosity, that's me own word
Fortuosity, me never feel alone word
`Round the corner, under a tree
Good fortune's waitin', just wait and see
Fortuosity, lucky chances
Fortuitious little happy happen-stances
I keep smilin', 'cause my philosophy
Is do your best and leave the rest to Fortuosity
I keep smilin', 'cause my philosophy
Is do your best and leave the rest to Fortuosity!
Zondag 6 oktober 1974
The Greatest Man I Never Knew
The Greatest Man I Never Knew
Composer(s): Richard Leigh - Layng Martine Jr.
Performer(s): Benny Neyman & Toni Willé
The greatest man I never knew
Lived just down the hall
And everyday we said hello
But never touched at all
He was in his paper
I was in my room
How was I to know
He thought I hung the moon
The greatest man I never knew
Came home late every night
He never had too much to say
Too much was on his mind
I never really knew him
And now it seems so sad
Everything he gave to us
Took all he had
Then the days turned to years
And the memories to black and white
He grew cold like an old winter wind
Blowing across my life
The greatest words I never heard
I guess I’ll never hear
The man I thought could never die
‘s Been dead almost a year
He was good at business
There was business left to do
He never said he loved me
Guess he thought I knew
Zondag 6 oktober 1974
People Such As These
People Such As These
((Adapted from: Ces Gens-Là (Jacques Brel) - 1966))
Composer(s): Jacques Brel - Fabien Passant - Bruno Bouchegnies - Lydia Ruddy
Performer(s): The Walkabouts - 2001
Versions In Other Languages:
1969 - Dat Soort Volk (Liesbeth List)
1970 - Dit Slag Volk (Herman van Veen)
1971 - Che Bella Gente (Giorgio Gaber)
2002 - Quelli Là (Duilio Del Prete)
To begin, to begin, there is the first born
He who is like a melon
He who has a big nose
He who doesn't know his name
Because he drinks a lot
And he's been drunk-- for a long time
Does nothing with ten fingers
He can do no more than that
Completely cooked
Sees himself as king
Drunk every night
On rotgut wine
But you'll find him in the morning
Sleeping in a church
Stiff as a board
White like the dove of Easter
Sitting and stuttering
Bleary eyed
It must be said, sir
People such as these
We do not think
We do not think
We only pray
And then there is another
With carrots in his hair
Who never saw a wig a scamp with ticks
Gives the shirt off his back
To the happy poor
He who married Denise
A girl from the town
Actually from another town
And it's not finished
He does his little business
With his little hat
His little coat, his little car
Wants us to believe, he has style
But he has none at all
We shouldn't play rich
When we don't have the money
It must be said, sir
People such as these
We don't live, sir
We don't live, we trick
And then there are the others
The mother who says nothing
Or spews, anything at all
From evening to morning
From beneath her pretty face
Face like an apostle
And in the wood frame
The mustache of the father
He who died in a fall
He who watches his flock
Graze on their cold soup
He who makes big slurrps
And now we see one of the very old
One who doesn't stop shaking
To whom nobody listens
Though it's she who holds the cash
But nobody listens
To what her poor poor hands say
It must be said, sir
People such as these
We don't speak, sir
People such as these
We just calculate
And then and then
And then there's Frida
Beautiful like the sun
Who loves me the same
Who I love, Frida
Even though we often said
We would own a house
With many windows
And few walls
That we would live there
And it'd be the good life
Of course none of it was sure thing
At best there was a small chance
Because the others didn't want it
'Cause the others didn't want it
The others they talk like this
They say she's too pretty for me
They say I am only good enough
To slit the throats of cats
But I've never killed cats
Or at least if I did, it was long ago
Or maybe I just forgot
Yes, if I did, it's because they stunk
No, in the end they didn't want it
No, in the end they didn't want it
Sometimes when we meet
We act like it's a coincidence
And with teary eyes
She says she'll leave
She says she'll follow me
And for one moment
Only one moment
That's what I believe
Just for one moment
That's what I believe
Because from people such as these
We do not escape
Because from people such as these
We do not escape
I gotta go, I gotta go
I gotta go
Zondag 6 oktober 1974
Fortune Teller
Fortune Teller
Performer(s): Bobby Curtola
Went to the fortune teller
To have my fortune read
I didn't what to tell her
I had a dizzy feeling in my head
Said she'd take a look at my palm
Said "Son do you feel kind of warm?"
And she looked into her crystal ball
Said "You're in love"
Said it could not be so
Not with all the girls I know
Said when the next one arrives
Looking into her eyes
I left there in a hurry
Much to my big surprise
The next thing I discovered
The fortune teller told me lies
So I ran back to that woman
Mad as I could be
Told her I didn't see nobody
How she made a fool out of me
At last something shook me
As if it came down from above
And now the fortune teller
And I fell in love
Zaterdag 5 oktober 1974
The Greatest Love Of All
The Greatest Love Of All
Composer(s): Michael Masser - Linda Creed
First release by: George Benson - 1977
Covered by multiple other artists
I believe the children are our future
Teach them well and let them lead the way
Show them all the beauty they posses inside
Give them a sense of pride to make it easier
Let the children's laughter remind us how we used to be
Everybody seaching for a hero
People need someone to look up to
I never found anyone who fulfilled my needs
A lonely place to be, so I learned to depend on me
I decided long ago never to walk in anyone's shadow
If I failed, if I succeed, at least I lived as I believed
No matter what they take from me they can't take away my dignity
Because the greatest Love of all is happening to me
I found the greatest love of all inside of me
The greatest love of all
Is easy to achieve learning to love yourself
it is the greatest love of all
And if by chance that special place that you've been dreaming of
Leads you to a lonely place find you strength
Zaterdag 5 oktober 1974
Dat Soort Volk
Dat Soort Volk ((aka Dit Slag Volk ((Herman van Veen) - 1970))
((Adapted from: Ces Gens-Là (Jacques Brel) - 1966))
Composer(s): Jacques Brel - Ernst van Altena
Performer(s): Liesbeth List - 1969
Versions In Other Languages:
1971 - Che Bella Gente (Giorgio Gaber)
2001 - People Such As These (The Walkabouts)
2002 - Quelli Là (Duilio Del Prete)
Je hebt je hebt de oudste broer
Zo'n vale, kale vent
Stom als een mallemoer
Die z'n eigen naam niet kent
Die drinkt zoveel, meneer
En die is zo vaak lam
Dat 'ie zo ongeveer
Niet ene moer meer kan
Hij is volslagen maf
Maar vindt zichzelf een heer
Hij is elke avond zat
Van wijn als kattepis
En 's morgens zit 'ie mat
Te maffen in de mis
Stijf als een eiken bint
Als 'n altaarkaars zo geel
Hij stottert als een kind
En hij is ook nog scheel
Zeg nou zelf, meneer
Dat soort volk, meneer
Denkt niet na, meneer
Dat denkt niet na
Dat bidt
En dan die andere broer:
Z'n peenhaar heeft misschien
Nog nooit een kam gezien
En hij 's vals als een hoer
Al geeft 'ie de armen dan
De hemden van z'n gat
Hij is getrouwd met An
Zo'n meisje uit de stad
Nou ja een andere stad
Maar da's hem niet genoeg
Hij scharrelt heel wat af
Met actetas en das
Dophoed en winterjas
In z'n opgepoetste Daf
Hij doet graag reuze sjiek
Maar is het voor geen cent:
Nou, als je 'n stuiver bent
Speel dan niet voor een piek!
Zeg nou zelf, meneer
Dat soort volk, meneer
Leeft niet echt, meneer
Dat leeft niet echt
Dat knoeit
En dan de rest van 't stel:
De moeder die stom lacht
Of raaskalt als de hel
Daarboven dag en nacht
Besnord, bebaard, verstard
Papa's vergeeld portret
Hij stierf aan een zwak hart
Bij 'n vreemde vrouw in bed
Nu kijkt hij hoe z'n schaar
Slurpt van de koude pap
Dat gaat daar dan van schlppp
Dat gaat daar dan van schlppp
En die stokouwe vrouw
Die altijd trilt en beeft
Ze denken: sterf maar gauw
Omdat zij centen heeft
Ze zijn niet eens meer stil
Als zij wat zeggen wil
Zeg nou zelf, meneer
Dat soort volk, meneer
Praat nooit echt, meneer
Dat praat nooit echt
Dat telt
En dan en dan en dan is er nog Jan
Blij als een lentewei
En hij houdt echt van mij
Zoals ik hou van Jan
En Jan zegt vaak: ik zal
Een huis gaan bouwen, meid
Met ramen overal
En kamers, groot en wijd
Daarin ga ik met jou
Fijn wonen, zal je zien
En al is 't nog niet gauw
Het komt toch wel misschien
Want de anderen willen 't niet
De anderen willen 't niet
Die zeggen strijk en zet:
Jan is te goed voor jou:
Ze vinden mij maar net
Een kattemeppersvrouw
'k Heb nooit een kat gevild
Of 't moet lang geleden zijn
Of 'k had het niet gewild
Maar 't beest stonk naar azijn
Nou ja, ze willen 't niet
Nou ja, ze willen 't niet
Als wij elkaar soms zien
(Da's dan geen toeval hoor!)
Dan zegt Jan: Meid, misschien
Gaan wij er wel vandoor!
Dan zegt 'ie: ik loop weg
En dan heel eventjes
Heel eventjes maar hoor
Geloof ik wat hij zegt
Meneer, heel eventjes
Heel eventjes maar hoor
Want weet u, dat soort volk, meneer
Dat loopt niet weg
Dat loopt niet weg, meneer
Dat loopt niet weg
Maar 't wordt al laat, meneer
En ik moet echt naar huis
Zaterdag 5 oktober 1974
Fortune In Dreams
Fortune In Dreams
Composer(s): Karl Raymond; Hal Stanley
Performer(s): Kay Starr
I've got a fortune
A fortune in dreams
That's how I measure
My treasure of schemes
I'm never poor
If I can pretend
I wouldn't take a million
For the dreams that I spend
With only daydreams to keep me at night
I get along and I'm doin' alright
I haven't got a bankful
But I'm thankful to say
I've got a fortune in dreams put away
I've got a fortune in dreams
I've got a fortune
A fortune in dreams
That's how I measure
My treasure of schemes
I'm never poor
Not if I can pretend
And I wouldn't take a million
For the dreams that I spend
With only daydreams to keep me at night
I get along and I'm doin' alright
I've leaned to love the
Things in life that money can't buy
That's why I see the sun
And not the clouds up in the sky
I haven't got a bankful
But I'm thankful to say
I've got a fortune in dreams put away
I've got a fortune in dreams!
Vrijdag 4 oktober 1974
Greatest
Greatest
Composer(s): Don Schlitz
Performer(s): Kenny Rogers
Little boy, in a baseball hat stands in the field with his ball and bat
Says, "I am the greatest player of them all" puts his bat on his shoulder and he tosses up his ball
And the ball goes up and the ball comes down swings his bat all the way around
The world so still you can hear the sound, the baseball falls to the ground
Now the little boy doesn't say a word, picks up his ball, he is undeterred
Says, "I am the greatest there has ever been" and he grits his teeth and he tries it again
And the ball goes up and the ball comes down swings his bat all the way around
The world so still you can hear the sound, the baseball falls to the ground
He makes no excuses, he shows no fear, he just closes his eyes and listens to the cheers
Little boy, he adjusts his hat, picks up his ball, stares at his bat
Says, "I am the greatest, the game is on the line" and he gives his all one more time
And the ball goes up and the moon so bright, swings his bat with all his might
The world's as still, as still can be, the baseball falls and that's strike three
Now it's suppertime and his momma calls, little boy starts home with his bat and ball
Says, "I am the greatest, that is a fact, but even I didn't know I could pitch like that!"
Says, "I am the greatest, that is understood, but even I didn't know I could pitch that good!"
Vrijdag 4 oktober 1974
Ces Gens-Là
Ces Gens-Là
Composer(s): Jacques Brel
First release by: Jacques Brel - 1966
Covered by multiple other artists
Versions In Other Languages:
1969 - Dat Soort Volk (Liesbeth List)
1970 - Dit Slag Volk (Herman van Veen)
1971 - Che Bella Gente (Giorgio Gaber)
2001 - People Such As These (The Walkabouts)
2002 - Quelli Là (Duilio Del Prete)
D'abord il y a l'aîné
Lui qui est comme un melon
Lui qui a un gros nez
Lui qui sait plus son nom
Monsieur tellement qui boit
Ou tellement qu'il a bu
Qui fait rien de ses dix doigts
Mais lui qui n'en peut plus
Lui qui est complètement cuit
Et qui se prend pour le roi
Qui se saoule toutes les nuits
Avec du mauvais vin
Mais qu'on retrouve matin
Dans l'église qui roupille
Raide comme une saillie
Blanc comme un cierge de Pâques
Et puis qui balbutie
Et qui a l'œil qui divague
Faut vous dire Monsieur
Que chez ces gens-là
On ne pense pas Monsieur
On ne pense pas on prie
Et puis, il y a l'autre
Des carottes dans les cheveux
Qu'a jamais vu un peigne
Ouest méchant comme une teigne
Même qu'il donnerait sa chemise
A des pauvres gens heureux
Qui a marié la Denise
Une fille de la ville
Enfin d'une autre ville
Et que c'est pas fini
Qui fait ses petites affaires
Avec son petit chapeau
Avec son petit manteau
Avec sa petite auto
Qu'aimerait bien avoir l'air
Mais qui n'a pas l'air du tout
Faut pas jouer les riches
Quand on n'a pas le sou
Faut vous dire Monsieur
Que chez ces gens-là
On ne vit pas Monsieur
On ne vit pas on triche
Et puis, il y a les autres
La mère qui ne dit rien
Ou bien n'importe quoi
Et du soir au matin
Sous sa belle gueule d'apôtre
Et dans son cadre en bois
Il y a la moustache du père
Qui est mort d'une glissade
Et qui recarde son troupeau
Bouffer la soupe froide
Et ça fait des grands flchss
Et ça fait des grands flchss
Et puis il y a la toute vieille
Qu'en finit pas de vibrer
Et qu'on attend qu'elle crève
Vu que c'est elle qu'a l'oseille
Et qu'on écoute même pas
Ce que ses pauvres mains racontent
Faut vous dire Monsieur
Que chez ces gens-là
On ne cause pas Monsieur
On ne cause pas on compte
Et puis et puis
Et puis il y a Frida
Qui est belle comme un soleil
Et qui m'aime pareil
Que moi j'aime Frida
Même qu'on se dit souvent
Qu'on aura une maison
Avec des tas de fenêtres
Avec presque pas de murs
Et qu'on vivra dedans
Et qu'il fera bon y être
Et que si c'est pas sûr
C'est quand même peut-être
Parce que les autres veulent pas
Parce que les autres veulent pas
Les autres ils disent comme ça
Qu'elle est trop belle pour moi
Que je suis tout juste bon
A égorger les chats
J'ai jamais tué de chats
Ou alors y a longtemps
Ou bien j'ai oublié
Ou ils sentaient pas bon
Enfin ils ne veulent pas
Parfois quand on se voit
Semblant que c'est pas exprès
Avec ses yeux mouillants
Elle dit qu'elle partira
Elle dit qu'elle me suivra
Alors pour un instant
Pour un instant seulement
Alors moi je la crois Monsieur
Pour un instant
Pour un instant seulement
Parce que chez ces gens-là
Monsieur on ne s'en va pas
On ne s'en va pas Monsieur
On ne s'en va pas
Mais il est tard Monsieur
Il faut que je rentre chez moi
Vrijdag 4 oktober 1974
Fortunate Son
Fortunate Son
French Title: Fils De Personne
Composer(s): John C. Fogerty
Performer(s): Creedence Clearwater Revival
Some folks are born to wave the flag
Ooh, they're red, white and blue
And when the band plays "Hail to the chief"
Ooh, they point the cannon at you, Lord
It ain't me, it ain't me, I ain't no senator's son, son
It ain't me, it ain't me; I ain't no fortunate one, no
Yeah!
Some folks are born silver spoon in hand
Lord, don't they help themselves, oh
But when the taxman comes to the door
Lord, the house looks like a rummage sale, yes
It ain't me, it ain't me, I ain't no millionaire's son, no
It ain't me, it ain't me; I ain't no fortunate one, no
Some folks inherit star spangled eyes
Ooh, they send you down to war, Lord
And when you ask them, "How much should we give?
"Ooh, they only answer more! more! more! yoh
It ain't me, it ain't me, I ain't no military son, son
It ain't me, it ain't me; I ain't no fortunate one, one
It ain't me, it ain't me, I ain't no fortunate one, no, no, no
It ain't me, it ain't me, I ain't no fortunate son, no, no, no
Donderdag 3 oktober 1974
Great White Buffalo
