Ian Dury все тексты (слова) песен, переводы, видео, клипы

This one's for Julie, who we love
I love her almost as I do Alma
But we don't do Alma no more
It's called â??England's Glory'. if you want to sing
Please sing

There are jewels in the crown of England's glory
And every jewel shines a thousand ways

I believe in bottle banks
And beauty from within
I believe in saying thanks
And fresh air on the skin

I believe in healthy walks
As tonic for the feet
I believe in serious talks

I'm partial to your abracadabra
I'm raptured by the joy of it all
So stop me where you start
The cockles of his heart
The panties sends it right up the wall

Please, please, stop it, it likes it
Tickles it to death either way

If I was with a woman she'd wonder what was happening
Little things would slowly go askew
If I was with a woman I'd make her quite unhappy
Specially when she did not want me to

If I was with a woman I'd make believe I loved her
All the time I would not like her much
If I was with a woman she'd soon become unsettled

Gotta sign the rent book
Gotta do the laundry
Then there's the electric
The water and the gas
Haven't stopped moaning
Since we had the phone in
The television rental
Another bloody hass

My old man wore three piece whistles
He was never home for long
Drove a bus for London Transport
He knew where he belonged
Number 18 down to Euston
Double decker move along
Double decker move along
My old man

There's no such thing as heart-ache
Tomorrow you'll be gone
There's no such thing as yesterday
The memory lingers on
There's no such thing as thank you
When no-one hears your please
There's no such thing as helping out
But willing on the knees

Who's got the toughest brush with the sweetest strokes at the Royal Academy for Jack-the-lademy?
Mr. Blake is the actual bloke at the Royal College of Useful Knowledge
He plays his part without complaint at the Royal Society for Insobriety
Gets his pencils and his paint from the Royal Commission for Intuition

It's not a fake it's a Peter Blake
It's navy blue, it's crimson lake
It takes the cake and no mistake,

Why don't you get back into bed
Why don't you get back into bed
Why don't you get back into bed
Why don't you get back into bed
Why don't you get back into bed
Why don't you get back into bed
Why don't you get back into bed
Why don't you get back into bed

Blue gene baby
Skinny white sailor, the chances were slender
The beauties were breif
Shall I mourn you decline with some thunderbird wine
And a black hankercheif?
I miss your sad Virginia whisper
I miss the voice that called my heart