Zondag 15 september 1996
A Sad Song
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.
A Sad Song
Performer(s): Alvin Lee
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Zondag 15 september 1996
Wagon Wheels
Wagon Wheels
Performer(s): Paul Whiteman
Wagon wheels, wagon wheels
Keep on a-turnin', wagon wheels
Roll along, sing your song
Carry me over the hill
Go 'long, mule, there's a steamer at the landin'
Waitin' for the cotton to load
Go 'long mule, the boss is understandin'
There's a pasture at the end of the road
Wagon wheels, wagon wheels
Keep on a-turnin', wagon wheels
Roll along, sing your song
Wagon wheels, carry me home
Wagon wheels, carry me home
Zaterdag 14 september 1996
A Russian Love Song
A Russian Love Song
Composer(s): Spike Milligan - Stephens
Performer(s): The Goons; Spike Milligan
There were two Russian lovers walking hand in hand
On the banks of a river in a snow covered land.
A boy and a girl with starlight in their eyes
They kiss and caress as he tenderly sighs
Oh! Oh! Oh! Comrade!
All right comrade that's enough!
We meet each night by the silvery light of our dear old fashioned
Russian satellite moon
It shines so bright -- turns Americans white at the sight of our dear
old fashioned Russian satelite moon
And over here in England
I saw it at my flat
I ran into the cellar
And put on my old ARP hat
Don't be silly! Comrades!
Just dance with joy, while we are all still alive by the light of our
glorious Russian satelite moon
Gentleman! Look up in the skies -- I can't believe my eyes!
It's that dear old fashioned Russian satelite moon!
What, what, where?
Hand me get my gun -- we're going to have some fun (bang)
Oh I missed that naughty Russian satellite moon
I'll have to run you in there for a very legal reason
Shooting at Russian moons when they are out of season
Stand aside -- my reply to that is this rocket driven hat
England's answer to that Russian satellite moon...The President.
Gentleman the President of the har-har-har of the har-har-har
There is a Russian satelite moon over Arkansas, Mr President
Thank heaven it is not over America
Don't worry, we are prepared for this Mr Presley: hit 'em heavy
Now listen here! I'll make it clear just what we intend to do I'm
gonna rock around that Russian satelite moon
I'm gonna rock around that Russian satellite moon (mumbles - fades - to replaced by a Russian)
That's right, comrade Elvis Go on, shake your hips while we listen to the blips
Of our glorious Russian satellite moon
(Various strange words getting faster until the Russian explodes!)
Zaterdag 14 september 1996
Wagon Train
Wagon Train
Composer(s): Henri René; Bob Russell
Performer(s): The Sons Of The Pioneers;
and various other artists
Roll along Wagon Train
Rollin' over prairie where there ain't no grass
Rollin' over mountain where there ain't no pass
Sittin' on a board, eyein' the weather
Prayin' to the Lord, we stay together
Side by side on the Wagon Train
Wagon Train, roll along
Pickin' up a passenger in every town
Wonderin' if he's ever gonna shoot you down
Lookin' for a pal, ain't it a pity
Lookin' for a gal, needn't be pretty
If she'll ride on the Wagon Train
Wagons ho!
Gotta keep em on the run
Time to go and follow the sun
Roll along Wagon Train
Never had a cabin near a general store
Only had a wagon and a forty-four
Sittin' on a board, eyein' the weather
Prayin' to the Lord, we stay together
Side by side on the Wagon Train
Vrijdag 13 september 1996
A Runner With The Pack
A Runner With The Pack
Composer(s): Pete Bellotte
Performer(s): Donna Summer
He’s got a second side he’s got sixth sense
He got everything
He got what it takes
He got what it makes to be everything
Seems to know all there is to know
I took him there
He steals the show
He’s so astute he’s so acute he’s gold sure he is
He’s eloquent he’s intelligent and benevolent
He’s the epitome of ability with his expertise
He’s versatile with a lot of style
He’d mess my heart every time he’d smile
So unpretentious a warm and gentle soul
A runner with the pack, no he’s not like that
A runner with the pack, no he’s not like that
Cause he’s inventive, attentive, protective, selective
Perceptive, receptive, affective, reflective
A runner with the pack, no he’d never do that
He got tolerance he got confidence he’s significant
And he’s a connoisseur and a social stir he’s magnificent
So fair and square he reciprocates
And every way he stimulates
His quality of voracity is great
A runner with the pack, no he’s not like that
A runner with the pack, no he’s not like that
Cause he’s inventive, attentive, protective, selective
Perceptive, receptive, effective, reflective
(you know the he’s)
A runner with the pack, no he’d never do that
Vrijdag 13 september 1996
Waco
Waco
Composer(s): Hal Blair; Jimmie Haskell
Performer(s): Lorne Greene
Waco, yeah
He stood tall with heavy guns that tied down at the thigh
Gunmen knew that to test his draw was to pick your time to die
Even an outlaw deadly mean, the ones that you been said
But now a bad gringo has done his best and he was the law instead
Waco, Waco
People moved away from him, his smile was grim and cold
The badge he wore was a mockery to the notches on his soul
Was he good or was he bad, even Waco didn’t know
The girl he loved was promised now, so which way would he go
Waco, Waco
The hour was getting closer and the odds were mighty long
His life would be the forfait if he decided wrong
He whose God would not be his, what was he fighting for
The people of a little town that couldn’t despise him more
Waco, Waco
No more time he must decide, some thought he might have prayed
He checked his guns then faced the speed, a decision had been made
There was a dignity about him, a somber look of doom
The people that were in his way moved back and gave him room
Never had he faced such odds, he’d never learned upon
He had loved and now he’d die with his only friend the gun
A solemn lonely figure moving up the dusty street
A solitary target for the fate he was to meet
Waco (Waco), Waco (Waco)
With a roar the fight exploded, his big guns cut him down
That day will be remembered as long as there’s a town
The people saw one gunman stand and fight an outlaw band
He gave them the courage they had lost and they backed him to the man
Waco
Now his job was finished here
As he slowly turned away, a hand reached out and touched his arm
And a gentle voice said : “stay”
The girl he’d loved forever was standing at his side
And the real man that was Waco lived, and the outlaw Waco died
Waco, Waco, (Waco, Waco, Waco), yeah
Donderdag 12 september 1996
A Rum Tale
A Rum Tale
((Italian Version: Storia Di Una Bottiglia (by Mimmo Locasciulli) - 1998))
Composer(s): Gary Brooker - Keith Reid
First release by: Procol Harum - 1973
She's fuddled my fancy, she's muddled me good
I've taken to drinking, and given up food
I'm buying an island, somewhere in the sun
I'll hide from the natives, live only on rum
I'm selling my memoirs, I'm writing it down
If no one will pay me I'll burn down the town
I'll rent out an aircraft and print on the sky
If God likes my story then maybe he'll buy
I'm buying a ticket for places unknown
It's only a one-way: I'm not coming home
She's swallowed my secret, and taken my name
To follow my footsteps and knobble me lame
Donderdag 12 september 1996
Wacht Maar Af
Wacht Maar Af
English Title: Just You Wait
Composer(s): Alan Jay Lerner; Frederick Loewe;
Seth Gaaikema; Hubert Janssen; Alfred Pleiter
Performer(s): Margriet de Groot;
and various other artists
Eliza:
Wacht maar af Henry Higgins, ook voor jou
komt er eens een tijd van spijt en van berouw
Ik de centen, gij de zorgen
Ik jou helpen, zeker! Morgen!
Wacht maar af, Henry Higgins, wacht maar af!
Wacht maar af, Henry Higgins, want ook gij
wordt wel ziek en dus afhankelijk van mij
Als gij smekend vraagt om water
zenne 'k al weg naar den theater
Ohhoho, Henry Higgins, wacht maar af!
Ooooooh, Henry Higgins
wacht maar af tot dat we zwemme in de zee
Ooooooh, Henry Higgins
en gij wordt door golve meegesleurd in zee
Als gij roept: "Help! Ik verdrink!"
dan verroere 'k gene pink
Oh, hoho Henry Higgins!
Oh, hoho Henry Higgins
Wacht maar af!
Later word ik beroemd en zo vroom in m'n ziel
dat de aartsbisschop zegt
noemt gij mij maar Kamiel
En de Koning zegt ook al na verloop van nen tijd
Eliza : gij ze echt een heel toffe meid
En morgen dan hijsen we de vlag
dan wordt nu: Liza Doolittledag!
Ik trakteer met een vuurwerk, ja met alles d'r bij
en wat dat ge wilt hebben, wel dat krijgt ge van mij
Dank u wel zeg ik dan en beloofd is beloofd
dan wil ik geire Henry Higgins' hoofd!
"Bon" zegt de Koning "met plezier"
"wachters! Zoekt die vent en haalt hem hier!"
En gij vliegt voor 't peleton tegen de muur
en wel zeventien geweren geven vuur!
Eerst nog efkes voor de proef
maar dan: Pief paf poef
Da's je straf Henry Higgins!
in je graf Henry Higgins!
Wacht maar af!!!!!!
Woensdag 11 september 1996
Storia Di Una Bottiglia
Storia Di Una Bottiglia
((Adapted from: A Rum Tale (by Procol Harum) - 1973))
Composer(s): Gary Brooker - Keith Reid - Mimmo Locasciulli
Performer(s): Mimmo Locasciulli - 1998
Lei tira i miei sogni
Per farne realtà
Pavimenta d’argento
Le strade dei bar
Voglio un posto nel sole
Dove il buio non c’è
Mi riparo dal mondo
E mi dedico a me
E vendo la casa
Per andar via di qua
Se nessuno la vuole
Brucerò la città
Mi affitterò un aeroplano
Nel dipinto di blu
Venderò il mio racconto
E non scriverò più
Mi compro un biglietto
Per dove non so
Non ho preso un ritorno
Perché non tornerò
Non nascondo più niente
Nei segreti che ho
Ho una strada da fare
Quella strada farò
Woensdag 11 september 1996
Just You Wait
Just You Wait
Dutch Title: Wacht Maar Af
Composer(s): Alan Jay Lerner; Frederick Loewe
Performer(s): Audrey Hepburn
Just you wait, 'enry 'iggins, just you wait!
You'll be sorry, but your tears'll be to late!
You'll be broke, and I'll have money
Will I help you? Don't be funny!
Just you wait, 'enry 'iggins, just you wait!
Just you wait, 'enry 'iggins, till you're sick
And you scream to fetch a doctor double-quick
I'll be off a second later
And go straight to the the-ater!
Oh ho ho, 'enry 'iggins, just you wait!
Ooooooh 'enry 'iggins!
Just you wait until we're swimmin' in the sea!
Ooooooh 'enry 'iggins!
And you get a cramp a little ways from me!
When you yell you're going to drown
I'll get dressed and go to town!
Oh ho ho, 'enry 'iggins!
Oh ho ho, 'enry 'iggins!
Just you wait!
One day I'll be famous!
I'll be proper and prim
Go to St. James so often I will call it St. Jim!
One evening the king will say
"Oh, Liza, old thing
I want all of England your praises to sing
Next week on the twentieth of May
I proclaim Liza Doolittle Day!
All the people will celebrate the glory of you
And whatever you wish and want I gladly will do"
"Thanks a lot, King" says I, in a manner well-bred
But all I want is 'enry 'iggins 'ead!"
"Done," says the King with a stroke
"Guard, run and bring in the bloke!"
Then they'll march you, 'enry 'iggins to the wall
And the King will tell me: "Liza, sound the call"
As they lift their rifles higher
I'll shout: "Ready! Aim! Fire!"
Oh ho ho, 'enry 'iggins
Down you'll go, 'enry 'iggins!
Just you wait!
Dinsdag 10 september 1996
A Routine Day
A Routine Day
Composer(s): John Woloschuk
Performer(s): Klaatu; The Curiosity Shoppe
It started off a routine day
I got through the morning in the usual way
I caught the bus on time
Good morning, Mr. Driver, drive
As I sat inside my overcoat I clutched my cane
And pressed my nose against the foggy window pane
Ho hum
The life I lead would even make a dead man yawn
Midday comes
I break for lunch
With my sandwich and a beer I go on a hunch
To the park where I hope to find
A little bit of peace of mind
As I sat there on a bench amidst the rodent race
I felt a strange sensation that without a trace appeared
But then as quickly disappeared again
So tell me what's the bloody point of playing the game
With so much to lose yet so little to gain
You sell your life away
Can't you see you're just a cog working like a dog
You trade your future for a dead-end job
That's full of routine days
Routine days
I race the clock to the end of my day
The paycheck in my pocket makes me feel okay
But was it worth the grind
Just to keep from falling behind
I stand here in the queue behind a foul cigar
My face discreetly buried in a book on Mars
Humdrum
And I'm waiting on the pier 'til Charon comes
Dinsdag 10 september 1996
Wabash Cannonball
Wabash Cannonball
Composer(s): Alvin P. Carter
Performer(s): The Carter Family;
and various other artists
From the great Atlantic Ocean to the wide Pacific Shore
From sunny California to icebound Labrador
She's mighty tall and handsome, she's known quite well by all
She's the 'bos accomodation called the Wabash Cannon Ball
Listen to the jingle the rumble and the roar
As she glides along the woodlands, through the hills and by the shore
Hear the mighty rush of the engine, hear those lonesome hobos call
While travelling through the jungle on the Wabash Cannon Ball
This train she runs to Memphis, Mattoon and Mexico
She rolls through East St. Louis and she never does it slow
As she flies through Colorado, she gives an awful squall
They tell her by her whistle, the Wabash Cannon Ball
Listen to the jingle the rumble and the roar
As she glides along the woodlands, through the hills and by the shore
Hear the mighty rush of the engine, hear those lonesome hobos call
While travelling through the jungle on the Wabash Cannon Ball
Our eastern states are dandy, so the people always say
From New York to St. Louis and Chicago by the way
From the hills of Minnesota where rippling waters fall
No changes can be taken on the Wabash Cannon Ball
Listen to the jingle the rumble and the roar
As she glides along the woodlands, through the hills and by the shore
Hear the mighty rush of the engine, hear those lonesome hobos call
While travelling through the jungle on the Wabash Cannon Ball
Now here's to Boston Blackie, may his name forever stand
And always be remembered by the 'bos throughout the land
His earthly days are over and the curtains round him fall
We'll carry him home to glory on the Wabash Cannon Ball
Listen to the jingle the rumble and the roar
As she glides along the woodlands, through the hills and by the shore
Hear the mighty rush of the engine, hear those lonesome hobos call
While travelling through the jungle on the Wabash Cannon Ball
Maandag 9 september 1996
A Rose On God's Shore
A Rose On God's Shore
Composer(s): Don Reno
Performer(s): Reno & Smiley
We knew no sorrow and we knew no grief
Until they loving face was missed
There are the engravings upon his tombstone
Each time that we read them we realize he's gone
Just like a rose he was picked from our view
He was needed in heaven with God's chosen few
My mother was called just a few weeks before
Two angels have bloomed like a rose on God's shore
I guess Jesus thought him unsafe here below
So he called him home while he's ready to go
That beautiful smile on his face that I kissed
I've never known sorrow till that face I missed
Maandag 9 september 1996
Waarom Zijn De Bananen Krom
Waarom Zijn De Bananen Krom
Performer(s): Tony Corsari
Ik reisde door heel verre streken, steeds m'n ogen uitgekeken
Naar al wat ik zag
Om erg veel wijsheid te vergaren studeerde ik twintig jaren
Achttien uur per dag
Ik dacht dat ik van alles alles wist
Maar hoe verschrikkelijk had ik mij vergist
Want op een keer vroeg mij een heer 'nou, excuseer dat ik geneer'
Maar ik had graag een antwoord op mijn vraag
Waarom zijn de banaantjes krom
Waarom, zeg mij waarom
Is dit feit nu uit te leggen omdat vele mensen zeggen
Dat in vruchtjes zonder pit gewoonlijk er geen beentje zit
Waarom zijn de banaantjes krom
Waarom, zeg mij waarom
Ach, het zou ten alle tijde alle mensen wis verblijden
Als men zeggen kon waarom
En sinds die dag ben ik gaan zoeken in de verst gelegen hoeken
Die ik vinden kon
Of er toch niemand was in leven die mij het antwoordje kon geven
Hier onder de zon
Ik ging van Brussel tot Amerika
Van Amsterdam tot in Noord-Afrika
En keer op keer vroeg ik toen weer 'nou, excuseer dat ik geneer'
Maar ik had graag een antwoord op mijn vraag
In Holland, waarom zijn de banaantjes krom
Waarom, zeg mij waarom
Is dit feit te expliceren omdat mensen pretenderen
Dat in vruchtjes zonder pit habitude er geen beentje zit
Waarom zijn de banaantjes krom
Waarom, zeg mij waarom
Ach, het zou mij raviseren moest u het mij detailleren
Als men zeggen kon waarom
In Spanje, quid sas, quid sas sos form del bananas
Quid sas, quid sas, quid sas
Yo te querro mio madre una querto mio padre
Mio se hable el tore anda anda café olé
Quid sas, quid sas sos form del bananas
Quid sas, donna Fabiolas
Yo se hariba Espagna, Franco est una paragna
Quid sas, quid sas, quid sas
In Frankrijk, pourquoi les petites bananes vont-elles comme ça
Pourquoi, dite-moi pourqoui
Ah, je voudrais que tu m'expliques cette forme excentrique
Peut-être parce qu'il n' y a pas de ...... dans ce petit machin là
Pourquoi les petites bananes vont-elles comme ça
Pourquoi, dite-moi pourqoui
Je le demande sans rire si personne ne peut me dire
Pourquoi, pourquoi, pourqoui
In Engeland, why why are little bananas so dry
Why why, please tell me why
Oh, you hardly could beleave me but this thing is gonna greave me
Mister Churchill say it's true that bananas are good for you
Why why are little bananas so dry
Why why, please tell me why
Do you know a better thing as bananas with creampudding
Why why why why why why
In Duitsland, waarum zind di bananen krum
Waarum zacht mir waarum
Unze Fuhrer mochte fragen waarum niemand das kan zagen
Fur die Rijchkanselarei is das ein grose schweinerei
Waarum zind di bananen krum
Waarum ach potverdum
Um den kriege zu vergessen mussen wir bananen fressen
Waarum daarum atsjoem
Waarom zijn de banaantjes krom
Waarom, zeg mij waarom
Is dit feit nu uit te leggen omdat vele mensen zeggen
Dat in vruchtjes zonder pit gewoonlijk er geen beentje zit
Waarom zijn de banaantjes krom
Waarom, zeg mij waarom
Ach, het zou ten alle tijde alle mensen wis verblijden
Als men zeggen kon waarom
Zondag 8 september 1996
A Rose For Emily
A Rose For Emily
Composer(s): Rod Argent
First release by: The Zombies - 1968
Covered by multiple other artists
The summer is here at last
The sky is overcast
And no one brings a rose for Emily
She watches her flowers grow
While lovers come and go
To give each other roses from her tree
But not a rose for Emily...
Emily, can't you see
There's nothing you can do?
There's loving everywhere
But none for you...
Her roses are fading now
She keeps her pride somehow
That's all she has protecting her from pain
And as the years go by
She will grow old and die
The roses in her garden fade away
Not one left for her grave
Not a rose for Emily...
Emily, can't you see
There's nothing you can do?
There's loving everywhere
But none for you...
Her roses are fading now
She keeps her pride somehow
That's all she has protecting her from pain
And as the years go by
She will grow old and die
The roses in her garden fade away
Not one left for her grave
Not a rose for Emily...
Zondag 8 september 1996
Waarom Schrijft Hij Niet
Waarom Schrijft Hij Niet
Composer(s): N. Byl; H. Giraud; J.P. Lang
Performer(s): Ann Christy
Zo dus, je hebt hem ginder vaak ontmoet
Zeg mij hoe hij het stelt maakt hij het goed
Ga zitten en vertel mij nog wat meer
Want er is niets dat mij zo intereseert
Waarom schrijft hij niet
'k Wacht nog op z'n brief
'k Weet niet eens hoe hij leeft
Of hij nog om me geeft
Waarom schrijft hij niet
(hij verlangt zo naar jou)
'k Heb hem toch zo lief
(hij denkt altijd aan jou)
Verdient hij daar z'n brood
(hij verlangt zo naar jou)
Is hij niet in de nood
(hij denkt altijd aan jou)
Is het waar dat hij in de havenbuurt
Zo juist een vissershuisje heeft gehuurd
Is er daar iemand die voor hem goed zorgt
En komt hij in het leven niets te kort
Waarom schrijft hij niet
'k Wacht nog op z'n brief
'k Weet niet eens hoe hij leeft
Of hij nog om me geeft
Waarom schrijft hij niet
(hij verlangt zo naar jou)
Ik heb zo'n verdriet
(hij denkt altijd aan jou)
En kan hem niet vergeten
Waarom schrijft hij niet
(hij verlangt zo naar jou)
Waarom laat hij niets weten
(hij denkt altijd aan jou)
Misschien omdat hij daar z'n jeugd verspild
Dat hij het weet en niet bekennen wil
Gaf hij niet eens een boodschap voor me mee
Is het dan afgelopen met ons twee
Waarom schrijft hij niet
(hij verlangt zo naar jou)
'k Wacht nog op z'n brief
(hij denkt altijd aan jou)
'k Weet niet eens hoe hij leeft
(hij verlangt zo naar jou)
Of hij nog om me geeft
(hij denkt altijd aan jou)
Waarom schrijft hij niet
(hij verlangt zo naar jou)
'k Heb hem toch zo lief
(hij denkt altijd aan jou)
Verdient hij daar z'n brood
(hij verlangt zo naar jou)
Is hij niet in de nood
(hij denkt altijd aan jou)
Waarom schrijft hij niet
(hij verlangt zo naar jou)
'k Wacht nog op z'n brief
(hij denkt altijd aan jou)
'k Weet niet eens hoe hij leeft
(hij verlangt zo naar jou)
Of hij nog om me geeft
(hij denkt altijd aan jou)
Waarom schrijft hij niet
(hij verlangt zo naar jou)
'k Heb hem toch zo lief
(hij denkt altijd aan jou)
Verdient hij daar z'n brood
(hij verlangt zo naar jou)
Is hij niet in de nood
(hij denkt altijd aan jou)
Waarom schrijft hij niet
(hij verlangt zo naar jou)
'k Wacht nog op z'n brief
(hij denkt altijd aan jou)
'k Weet niet eens hoe hij leeft
(hij verlangt zo naar jou)
Of hij nog om me geeft
(hij denkt altijd aan jou)
Zeg me al wat je weet, verzwijg me niets
Waarom schrijft hij niet
Zaterdag 7 september 1996
A Rose And A Baby Ruth
A Rose And A Baby Ruth
Composer(s): John D. Loudermilk
Performer(s): George Hamilton IV
and multiple other artists
Doo, doo, doo, doo
Doo, doo, doo, doo
We had a quarrel
A teenage quarrel
Now I'm as blue as I know how to be
I can't call you on the phone
I can't even see you at your home
So I'm sending you this present
Just to prove that I'm telling the truth
Dear, I believe you won't laugh when you receive
This rose and a Baby Ruth
(Doo, doo, doo, doo)
(Doo, doo, doo, doo)
(Doo, doo, doo, doo, ahh)
I could have sent you an orchid of some kind
But that's all I had in my jeans at the time
But when we grow up
Some day I'll show up
Just to prove I was telling the truth
I'll kiss you, too, then I'll hand to you
This rose and a Baby Ruth
(Doo, doo, doo, doo)
(Doo, doo, doo, doo)
(Doo, doo, doo, doo, ooh)
Zaterdag 7 september 1996
Waarom 2000
Waarom 2000
Composer(s): Fred Bekky
Performer(s): Ann Christy
Ik weet niet meer hoever het staat
begrijp niet langer waarover het gaat
Alles mag als men je niet ziet
lief zijn voor elkaar dat past hier niet
Gelul dat moet van de teevee
maar al die praatshows wat moeten w’ ermee?
Kan geweld niet schuil gaan in een woord?
Ik zie vaker mensen door woorden vermoord
Waarom?
Zeg me waarom!
Waarom zijn wij zo brutaal?
We praten maar raak
maar zijn zo glad als een aal
Bloed zie je vloeien
maar inwendige pijn...
Ja, daar loop je mee rond
en je lacht voor de schijn
Waarom?
Romantiek is ouderwets
doe liever mee aan dat «zinnig» geklets
Je gevoelens tonen dat is taboe
want dan sta je zwak en dan roepen ze boe!
Waarom?
Zeg me waarom!
Waarom zijn wij zo brutaal?
We praten maar raak
maar zijn zo glad als een aal
Bloed zie je vloeien
maar inwendige pijn...
Ja, daar loop je mee rond
en je lacht voor de schijn
Waarom?
Vrijdag 6 september 1996
A Rosa
A Rosa
Composer(s): Chico Buarque
Performer(s): Chico Buarque
Arrasa o meu projeto de vida
Querida, estrela do meu caminho
Espinho cravado em minha garganta
Garganta
A santa às vezes troca meu nome
E some
E some nas altas madrugada
Coitada, trbalha de plantonista
Artista, é doida pela Portela
Ói ela
Ói ela, vestida de verde e rosa
A Rosa garante que é sempre minha
Quietinha, saiu pra comprar cigarro
Que sarro, trouxe umas coisas do Norte
Que sorte, voltou toda sorridente
Demente, inventa cada carícia
Egípcia, me encontra e me vira a cara
Odara, gravou meu nome na blusa
Abusa, me acusa
Revista os bolsos da calça
A falsa limpou a minha carteira
Maneira, pagou a nossa despesa
Beleza, na hora do bom me deixa, se queixa
A gueixa
Que coisa mais amorosa
A Rosa
Ah, Rosa, e o meu projeto de vida
Querida, estrela do meu caminho
Espinho cravado em minha garganta
Garganta
A santa às vezes me chama Alberto
Alberto
Decerto sonhou com alguma novela
Penélope, espera por mim bordando
Suando, ficou de cama com febre
Que febre
A lebre, como é que ela é tão fogosa
A Rosa
A Rosa jurou seu amor eterno
Meu terno ficou na tinturaria
Um dia me trouxe uma roupa justa
Me gusta, me gusta
Cismou de dançar um tango
Meu rango sumiu lá da geladeira
Caseira, seu molho é uma maravilha
Que filha, visita a família em Sampa
Às pampa, às pampa
Voltou toda descascada
A fada, acaba com a minha lira
A gira, esgota a minha laringe
Esfinge, devora a minha pessoa
À toa, a boa
Que coisa mais saborosa
A Rosa
Ah, Rosa, e o meu projeto de vida?
Bandida, cadê minha estrela guia?
VAdia, me esquece na noite escura
Mas jura
Me jura que um dia volta pra casa
Vrijdag 6 september 1996
Waarheen, Waarvoor
