lirik lagu владимир высоцкий (vladimir vysotsky) & zhuravliov - tv talk (us adaptation)
[sue]
— oh bob! look there — those goofy jokers!
their mouths could use a zipper, right?
all caked in paint like worn~out smokers
and slurring like they drank all night!
and that one — swear, i’m not insane —
he looks like joe from down the lane
no, take a look! i’m not in vain —
i’m right again!
[bob]
— now listen, sue, don’t slam my brother
he’s family — drunk or not, he stays
you’re caked in blush like any other
and smell like ashtrays set ablaze!
instead of gripin’ all the time
how ’bout a beer run? ain’t no crime
what, won’t go out? fine, i’ll go climb!
just scoot, it’s prime
[sue]
— oh bob! look there — thosе tiny dancers!
in spandex, not a single sеam!
no way our local dress enhancers
could stitch that mess — not in a dream
and all your pals, for real, i swear
are broke and loud beyond compare
they drink cheap booze in lawn chairs — there!
that crew? beware
[bob]
— my friends might drink that budget liquor
but least they pay with what they’ve earned
they don’t come home with wallets sl!cker
and say, “the cash? who knows — it burned!”
and you, remember hank from tires?
he guzzled gas near open fires!
you dated ~that~ — which never tires…
you lit those wires!
[sue]
— oh bob! look there — that girl, she’s stylin’!
in crop top short and glitter tight!
i want one too — i mean, i’m smilin’!
you’d get me one, if you were right
by end of month — you ~could~, you know!
don’t roll your eyes and shout “heck no!”
you always dodge — that’s how you show?
you hurt me so
[bob]
— you’d better hush before i lose it
that bonus check? you k!lled it dead!
who snitched on me? don’t you confuse it —
i read the note. i know who said!
and that crop top, it ain’t your size —
would stretch like tarp across the skies
where’s money now? you spent it — lies!
no more “surprise.”
[sue]
— oh bob! that flip — he’s quite the flipper!
he spins like circus folks at fairs!
our foreman — chuck — became a stripper
while wasted last week on the stairs!
but you come home, and what you do?
you eat, then nap the whole night through
or yell when sober — always blue
what’s wrong with you?
[bob]
— you always push, you always needle
you love to nag and gripe and groan!
i break my back for crumbs and diesel —
and come back home… to you alone
so yeah, i drink, i grab a case
the bar’s more fun than this old place
at least i’m not some boozy disgrace —
it’s friends, not sp~ce!
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