17.03.2017 test 2

17.03.2017 test 1

10.11.2013 Последняя запись британских провокаторов Chumbawamba «In Memoriam: Margaret Thatcher»

12.02.2013 BIG SOCIETY! (“Большой свет”) Перевод двух песен из последнего альбома Chumbawamba

24.09.2011 Что есть панк? (если этот вопрос уместен)

09.06.2011 Делать панк самому или со своими друзьями

27.05.2011 Протест средствами искусства

24.05.2011 На «Максидроме» поубавилось русских

19.05.2011 Первое знакомство с веселыми анархистами.

11.05.2011 Из истории Chumbawamba

«B»

B

Bad Dog

Puppy eyes puppy eyes tearing claws spitting pride
Roll over! roll over! roll over! roll over!
Pretty please pretty play chase away chase away
Nasty nasty snapping nasty biting spitting nasty nasty
Hammer hammer teeth nails sit sit sit sit
Bitch wont beg bitch cant lick bitch cant do those clever tricks
Heel fetch run lie nasty nasty snapping nasty
See these eyes puppy eyes roll over and die die

Bad dog you bad dog you bad dog you bad dog
Playful dog with trouble and spice nasty nice nasty nice
Slip the lead fight fight my bark is softer than my bite
Roll over roll over mock each chewing spewing mouthful
Hammer hammer teeth nails bad dog bad dog
Good girl pat pat bad dog smack smack
Heres a bitch wholl give it back snap snap snap snap
Puppy eyes will start to play this nasty dog will have its day

This is heaven
This is hell
This is living
This is tale to tell
This is drive wheel
This is cog
This is master
This is snarling dog
This is hammer
This is spanner
This is no sir
This is table manners
This is history
This is how its been
This is over and over and over and over again

Bankrobber

Daddy was a bankrobber
But he never hurt anybody
He just loved to live that way
And he loved to steal your money

Some is rich and some is poor
That’s the way the world is
But I don’t believe in lying back
And sayin’ how bad your luck is

So we came to jazz it up
We never loved a shovel
Break your back to earn your pay
An’ don’t forget to grovel

The old man spoke up in bar
Said i never been in prison
A lifetime supply serving one machine
Is ten times worse than prison

Imagine if all the boys in jail
Could get out now together
Whadda you think they’d want
To say to us while we was being clever

Be With You

The future glints like the moon on an old slate roof
And everything you say sounds like the truth
The things you did made half my dreams come true
And I wanted to be with you
And I wanted to be with you

Sing your songs of what could be
Of all the things you brought back home to me

And I wonder what the papers are going to say
Another actress, another war, another day
But everything’s changed, the world woke up today
And I wanted to be with you
And I wanted to be with you

Sing your songs of what could be
Draw the world for those who couldn’t see

And I wanted to be with you

Behave

Hey diddle diddle, here’s a brand new riddle
What’s shallow and cheap with a hole in the middle
Five fingers holding four wise angels
Little heads float by on clouds of goodness
They’re playing voodoo with their Kylie dolls
Sing it right or don’t sing it all

Bella ciao

The world is waking outside my window
Bella ciao, bella ciao, bella ciao ciao ciao
Drags my senses into the sunlight
For there are things that I must do

Wish me luck now, I have to leave you
Bella ciao, bella ciao, bella ciao ciao ciao
With my friends now up to the city
We’re going to shake the Gates of Hell

And I will tell them — we will tell them
Bella ciao, bella ciao, bella ciao ciao ciao
That our sunlight is not for franchise
And wish the bastards drop down dead

Next time you see me I may be smiling
Bella ciao, bella ciao, bella ciao ciao ciao
I’ll be in prison or on the TV
I’ll say, «the sunlight dragged me here!»
Stamattina mi sono alzato
Bella ciao, bella ciao, bella ciao

Big Mouth Strikes Again

I caught you with your head down the toilet as you were gulping up dirty words, then later dressed in suit and tie, whilst playing to the laughing crowds, you were gargling, spitting, fingers down your throat, making yourself so sick. Vomiting the words that you’d sucked and slurped all over the cops at the back!
Big mouth, big mouth, big mouth strikes again
Big mouth, big mouth, big mouth strikes again
Flucky now, flucky now, flucky now, oh my, it’s a good job Fusion cannot spell. ‘Cause if I could you know I’d get a lot of flack off the record company, always on my back. Well I thank God for watching what I’m doing. Whoops. Fusion watch what you’re saying. Remember what happened before when you tried to thank God, um, Christ, um, Him—you had to scrap your lyrics and throw them in the bin. I couldn’t win, it must’ve been a thing. Anyway I’ve been asked here not to give lip, but to talk about a topic which we call censorship. Musicians have no right to say what they want to. MC Fusion want to say some of the people say that blunt—nobody has the right to tell you want to do. ‘Cause if you do it to them, it may be [?] on you. Whoever bought this record try and figure out what the flucking hell is Fusion talking about, but it makes sense to the A G I T, cause this is what happened when they try to censor me. Ha. Finally, Fusion, I mean we, got freedom of speech. Censorship is a load of bollocks, and that’s wh
at agitation propaganda and anything you can do, I can do better.
‘To’ is a preposition
‘Come’ is a verb
‘To come’ is a verb intransitive
To come, to come
Did you come? Did you come good? Good!
Did you come? Did you come good? Good!
Don’t come in me, don’t come in me
Don’t come in me, don’t come in me
It takes technique to thrill me!
Did you come? Did you come good? Good!
Did you come? Did you come good? Good!
Did you come, come, come, come, come good?
Big mouth, big mouth, big mouth strikes again
Big mouth, big mouth, big mouth strikes again
(Good Thief routine)
Stepford husbands, Stepford wives
With longer scissors, sharper knives
So sugar-sweet, they spend their time as censors, working overtime
This good-good culture
Bullshit motherfucker bullshit
Welcome Christ, judges, lone ranger
Bullshit motherfucker bullshit
Padres, pastors, popes, priests
Bullshit motherfucker bullshit
Critics, comics, you, me
Bullshit motherfucker bullshit
Big mouth, big mouth, big mouth strikes again
Big mouth, big mouth, big mouth strikes again

Bury Me Deep

When I first came to Commons Lords
Life was simple for me
Took the milk from the children’s mouths
You get nothing for free
Now if I should sleep…
Bury me deep

Waging war on those mutineers
Cut the heart took the soul
Broke the back of the working man
Cut the diamond with coal
Now if I should sleep…
Bury me deep.

Buy Nothing Day

I woke up this morning, my temperature high (buy, buy, buy)
«I’ll never buy nothing again,» I lied (buy, buy, buy)
My doctor, he told me to stay out of town (buy, buy, buy)
He said, «affluenza will get you down» (buy, buy, buy)

What did you do in the war, dad? What did you do in the war?
Ring up the tills in the High Street, I’m not coming in anymore

There’s a price tag on me and there’s sick on the floor (buy, buy, buy)
We’re buying up anything we can’t afford (buy, buy, buy)
Wherever I go, I keep hearing this voice (buy, buy, buy)
Saying «choose what you want» but there’s so little choice (buy, buy, buy)

What did you do in the war, dad? What did you do in the war?
Ring up the tills in the High Street, I’m not coming in anymore

Give it a rest

There’s dumb moves behind me and bad debts above (buy, buy, buy)
I pawned my affections and still got no love (buy, buy, buy)
My heart and my pocket will say it’s unfair (buy, buy, buy)
I’m unlearning the cost of this laissez-faire (buy, buy, buy)

What did you do in the war, dad? What did you do in the war?
Ring up the tills in the High Street, I’m not coming in anymore
What did you do in the war, dad? What did you do in the war?
Ring up the tills in the High Street, I’m not coming in anymore

November twenty-three is buy nothing day

By & By

Don’t waste the days when I’m dead and I’m gone
Wind up the clocks, ring around, carry on
Don’t gather flowers, dry your eyes, call your friends
For all I sang was a start, not an end.

Catch your breath, feel the life in your bones
Enjoy what’s to come, not the things that we’ve done.
Save all your prayers, take the pain and the hurt
Add your chorus to my verse

By and by, by and by
Forget that glorious land above the sky
Don’t you cry, don’t you cry
By and by

I dreamed I saw Joe Hill last night
Alive as you and me
Says I, «But Joe, you’re ten years dead»
«I never died,» said he.

By and by, by and by
Forget that glorious land above the sky
Don’t you cry, don’t you cry
By and by

A B C D H

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