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

I've done a lot of things I wished I hadn't
There's other things I never hope to do
But sliding off the map in both directions
Is the sorry mess i've made of knowing you

I've seen a lot of things I wished I hadn't
There's other things I never hope to see
But no-one left alive could paint a picture

Good evening I'm from essex
In case you couldn't tell
My given name is Dickie, I come from Billericay
And I'm doing very well

Had a love affair with Nina
In the back of my Cortina
A seasoned up hyena could not have been more obscener

I'm and Irish cripple, a Scottish jew
I'm the blackmail man
A raspberry ripple, a buckle-my-shoe
I'm the blackmail man
I'm a dead fish coon, a pikey Greek
I'm the blackmail man
A silvery spoon, a bubble and squeak
I'm the blackmail man

You must have seen parties of Blockheads
With blotched and lagered skin
Blockheads with food particles in their teeth
What a horrible state they're in

They've got womanly breasts
Under pale mauve vests
Shoes like dead pigs' noses

If you're cold, well here's a plan:
Pull the plug out of your fan
If you're hot, now here's a scheme:
Park your botty in the stream
If you're tired, check this plot:
Seek a source that hits the spot
If you're snooty, here's a ploy
Stroll along the hoi polloi

Just 'cause I ain't never â??ad, no,
Nothing worth having
Never ever, never ever
You ain't got no call not to think
I wouldn't fall
Into thinking that
I ain't too clever
And it ain't not having

You're not Brigitte Bardot
I'm not Jack Palance
I'm not Shirley Temple
On any circumstance
Or Fred Astaire

You're not Sydney Taphler
I'm not Dirk Bogarde

Oh, let's get up and let's get excited
It's a public party and you're all invited
Let's cut the custard, see the mustard
Please hold steady till we're maladjusted
Sing boop-ba-de-boop, sing twiddle-de-de
Invite the Germans home for tea
Let them mock and let them sneer
The wise young crackpot knows no fear

So I'm screaming this to you
"waaaaaaagh"
From the last place in the queue
"waaah, waaah"
I really think you'd like me
Given half a chance
But since we ain't got that
I'll do the Screamers Dance

Be-ah bickey ba bo-bo-bo
I got a gal that I love so

Delusions of grandeur, delusions of grandeur
I'm a dedicated follower of my own success
I can handle the glamour, I can cope with the stress
Deal with the doughnuts and please all the rest
I'm polite to the punters and sweet to the press

Here I stand
With a doughnut for a brain
On my life, I must see you again
I should think that's made it very plain
Is it his
Is it his or is it ain't?

Don't ask me

I'm in love with the person in the sandwich centre
If she didn't exist I'd have to invent her
There isn't any secret to my frequent visits
It's the way she makes them and they're all exquisite

I'm in love with the person in the sandwich centre
I'm enamoured of the magic of her fresh polenta
My temperature rises and my pulses quicken

Heavy living is the life that i've lead
seeing saylight througha curtain of red
stands to reason why i'm staying in bed
heavey living off the top of my head

heavy live, uh, I know it too well
every creak on the stairway to hell
double vision and a terrible smell

What's all this spunk on the duckboards?
Come on Lawrence... come on Lawrence...
Let's go out and have a prayer meeting
Take a chance with our new shotgun
Hey! Come on Lawrence!
It's time we escaped again, my son
Oi! Come on!

In the deserts of Sudan
And the gardens of Japan
From Milan to Yucatan
Every woman, every man

Hit me with your rhythm stick.
Hit me! Hit me!
Je t'adore, ich liebe dich,

Exploring every avenue of love on the honeysuckle highway
Eschewing every vestige of regret we gaily slip along
Displaying all the evidence of mirth on the daffodyllic byway
And needing no excuse to have a laugh 'cos we're doing nothing wrong

You want magic? I'll provide it
You want daydream? I'm inside it
You want mystery? It will find you

In the mirror, when I'm debonair
My reactions are my own affair
A body likes to be near the bone
Oh Nancy, Leslie, Jack and Joan
I die when I'm alone, alone

Shake your booty when your back is bent
Put your feelings where my mouth just went

What did you learn at school today?
Jack shit
The minute the teacher turns away
That's it
How many times were you truly intrigued?
Not any
Is boredom a symptom of mental fatigue?
Not many

He's got his little Y-fronts and his got his little vest
He's got his little parting in his hair
He's got his little trousers and he's got his little shoes
And he wants a bit of Wembley up ‘you-know-where'

He's got his little jacket and he's got his little shirt
He's got his little notif on his tie
He's got his little raincoat and he's got his little hat

Robbed R. Pearson's paper,
Lauren spent his half
Ricky loves a kicking
Wants to join the guards
Barry breaks the windows
Of his broken home
Have a guess.
His tiny mind's been scarred

Oit, rotten hat
Where'd you get that haircut?
Brent Cross Shopping Centre?
I bet your mother feeds you with a catapult

Oh, Mr. Shagnasty
A bit of give and take
You call me a divvy

New digs and prospects of a job
New digs and prospects

Have I been half interested till now?
Breath and armpits stink
For Christs sake please stay sweet
The ever present threat of hands that want to sweat
My head aches and I m bursting for a piss

Excuse me, Excuse me
Get right out of the way
Quiet!
(flop-flops)

I'm sorry, Beg your pardon
The fault's entirely yours
Quiet!

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?

I've got the feeling but I ain't got the skill
And I don't like your suggestion
Will you still love me when I'm over the hill
Is another stupid question

Don't deny that I show disrespect
Ask me why I don't change the subject
Justify, but it has no effect

Till I met her, I thought I knew the answers
I thought a bit of treatment was all a body needs
I'll take you where the haps are
All the handsome chaps are
Squeeze you till I make your feelings bleed

She put me right behind her in fifteen minutes
She could have had my things off, so sadly was I raised

Blue Gene baby
Skinny white sailor,
The chances were slender
The beauties were brief
Shall I mourn your decline
With some Thunderbird wine
And a black handkerchief?
I miss your sad Virginia whisper

When we were simple and naïve
We wore our feelings on our sleeve
As we've grown jaded and corrupt
Our manner's guarded and abrupt

Oh, how we'd smile most readily
Whilst ploughing on unsteadily
Now frowns are etched upon our face

Noel Coward was a charmer.
As a writer he was brahma.
Velvet, jackets and pyjamas,
had a gay divorce and other dramas.

There ain't half been some clever bastards
(Lucky bleeders, lucky bleeders)
There ain't half been some clever bas-tards.

Fa la la la la
The war cry of the raging drunken sot
That sends unwelcome pains right up your bot
It bellows forth from cooperate windows all night long
mucks up common thought of right and wrong

Uncoolohol uncoolohol

Bankrupt the banks
Withhold hold the rent
Shitters are a wank
And the landlord's bent
It's time that the ladies kept quiet
No it ain't

Open up the nicks

When I was fifteen I had a black crepe jacket and sideboards to my chin
I used to go around in a two-tone Zephyr with a mean and nasty grin
Twelve-inch bottoms on my stardust flares and socks of dazzling green

Well Gene Vincent Craddock remembered the love of an Upminster rock 'n' roll teen
Well the silver-dollar hairstyle been cut down
The silver-dollar hairstyle been cut down
Amazing that the feeling's still around

I could be the driver an articulated lorry
I could be a poet I wouldn't need to worry
I could be a teacher in a classroom full of scholars
I could be the sergeant in a squadron full of wallahs
What a waste
What a waste
What a waste
What a waste

You'll see
They think I'm off my crust as I creep about the gaff
But I'm really getting ready to surprise them all
Because I'm busy sorting out the problems of the world
And when I reveal all, won't they get a crinkly mouth?
I've given my all to the task at hand unstintingly
When it's all over, I'll rest on my laurels

You're more than fair, you've got a gorgeous bum
Why don't you come to my house and meet my mum

I like your titties, they're nice and small
Let me have a squeeze in my front hall

Satin drawers I want to run a hand in
I want to snap them off you as we reach the landing

every day I look at you
and every day there's something new about you
when I look into your eyes
there's many things I recognize about you
every time i hold your hand
i'm learning how to understand about you
got more than love enough to spare
and i'm not going anywhere without you