Procol Harum все тексты (слова) песен, переводы, видео, клипы

1. A Whiter Shade Of Pale
2. Mabel
3. She Wandered Through The Garden Fence
4. Homburg
5. Monsieur Armand
6. Wishing Well
7. Skip Softly (My Moonbeams)
8. Long Gone Geek

Side A
1. "Quite Rightly So" Brooker, Fisher, Reid 3:40
2. "Shine On Brightly" 3:32
3. "Skip Softly (My Moonbeams)" 3:47
4. "Wish Me Well" 3:18
5. "Rambling On" 4:31
Side B
1. "Magdalene (My Regal Zonophone)" 2:50

Side A
1. "A Salty Dog" Gary Brooker, Keith Reid 4:41
2. "The Milk of Human Kindness" Brooker, Reid 3:47
3. "Too Much Between Us" Brooker, Robin Trower, Reid 3:45
4. "The Devil Came from Kansas" Brooker, Reid 4:38
5. "Boredom" Matthew Fisher, Brooker, Reid 4:34
Side B
1. "Juicy John Pink" Robin Trower, Reid 2:08

Side one
1. "Simple Sister" Gary Brooker 5:48
2. "Broken Barricades" Brooker 3:09
3. "Memorial Drive" (Robin Trower, Reid) Brooker 3:43
4. "Luskus Delph" Brooker 3:43
Side two
1. "Power Failure" Brooker 4:29
2. "Song for a Dreamer" (Trower, Reid) Robin Trower 5:35

Side one
1. "Nothing But The Truth" 3:13
2. "Beyond The Pale" 3:03
3. "As Strong as Samson" 5:05
4. "The Idol" 6:38
Side two
5. "The Thin End of The Wedge" 3:44
6. "Monsieur R. Monde" 3:40

"The Truth Won't Fade Away" (Brooker/Fisher/Reid)
"Holding On" (Brooker/Reid)
"Man With A Mission" (Brooker/Noble/Reid)
"(You Can't) Turn Back The Page" (Brooker/Noble/Reid)
"One More Time" (Brooker/Fisher/Reid)
"A Dream in Ev'ry Home" (Brooker/Fisher/Reid)
"The Hand That Rocks The Cradle" (Brooker/Thompson/Reid)
"The King of Hearts" (Brooker/Noble/Reid)

"An Old English Dream"
"Shadow Boxed"
"A Robe of Silk"
"The Blink of an Eye"
"The VIP Room"
"The Question" (Matthew Fisher/Keith Reid)
"This World is Rich" (for Stephen Maboe)
"Fellow Travellers" - based on Lascia Ch'io Pianga by George Frideric Handel (Matthew Fisher/Keith Reid)

My Amazon six-triggered bride
now searching for a place to hide
still sees the truth quite easily
but shrouds all else in mystery
while madmen in top hats and tails
impale themselves on six-inch nails
and some Arabian also-ran
impersonates a watering can

'All hands on deck, we've run afloat!'
I heard the captain cry
'Explore the ship, replace the cook:
let no one leave alive!'

Across the straits, around the Horn:
how far can sailors fly?
A twisted path, our tortured course,

We skipped the light fandango
Turned cartwheels 'cross the floor
I was feeling kinda seasick
But the crowd called out for more
The room was humming harder
As the ceiling flew away
When we called out for another drink
And the waiter brought a tray

We skipped the light fandango

Turned cartwheels cross the floor

I was feeling kind of seasick

The crowd called out for more

Home (1970)

About to die - the crowds applaud you
About to die - they'll resurrect you
Light a candle up in kingdom come
Light the way for the saviour's son
A candle burning bright enough to tear the city down

They say this fair city has ten thousand souls
Some live in mansions
And some live in holes
Some eat from silver
And some eat from gold
Some sift through garbage
And sleep in the cold

Psychiatrists and Lawyers destroying mankind
Drivin' 'em crazy...and stealing 'em blind
Bankers and Brokers ruling the world
Storing the silver and hoarding the gold

Ain't no use in preachers preaching
When they don't know what they're teaching
The weakest man be strong as Samson

Who will search for Holy Grail
Past the edge beyond the veil
Who will come beyond the light
Far from reach beyond all sight
Who will share this bitter cup
let the wild dogs tear them up
let the cold winds blow them down
drive them deep beneath the ground

Lyrics by Keith Reid

Some say they will and some say they won't

Some say they do and some say they don't

Some say they shall and some say they shan't

It was all once bright jewels
And glittering sand
The oceans have ravaged
And strangled the land
Waste fills the temples,
Dead daughters are born
The presses are empty
The editors torn

They tell us that we're savages
Who haven't got a hope
We're burning in the furnaces,
We're choking at the smoke
They say we haven't got a choice,
Refuse to recognize our voice
Yet they enjoy commissions
From the proceeds of the joke

Conquistador your stallion stands
in need of company
and like some angel's haloed brow
you reek of purity
I see your armour-plated breast
has long since lost its sheen
and in your death mask face
there are no signs which can be seen

You'd better listen anybody
'Cause I'm gonna make it clear
That my life is unimportant
What I've done I did through fear
There's a river running through me
On its tide I tried to hide
Nonetheless I could not shake it
And in the end it swept aside

I've been out of weeks for ages
I've been on and off the train.
I've been losing sheep
and counting sleep
And I've drunk too much again
But I'll take another cup
Even though it dry me up
Ooh, though I know that I should pass

You can give a dog a kicking
You can give a dog a bone
If you give your dog a kicking
Don’t expect him to come home
You can call your dog a mongrel
You can call your dog a stray
Just remember in the end that

This life is a journey
From shadow to shadow
We are all fellow travelers
To the end of the day

This life is blindness
Fill it with kindness
Love marks the times as

This war we are waging is already lost
The cause for the fighting has long been a ghost
Malice and habit have now won the day
The honours we fought for are lost in the fray
Standards and bugles are trod in the dust
Wounds have burst open, and corridors rust
Once proud and truthful, now humbled and bent
Fires which burnt brightly, now energies spent

He fell from grace and hit the ground
They tried in vain to bring him round
No one saw him make the fall
They couldn't understand at all
His fall from grace was swift and straight
The doctors didn't hesitate
What he had they were not sure
He didn't have a temperature

In praise of fruit I wrote this song
Because of fruit my heart is strong
Who could estimate its worth?
Fruit's the finest food on earth

Fresh fruit, juice and seeds
Please don't touch, please don't squeeze
Fresh fruit, juice and pulp

Still scowling black
good Captain Clack
must eat his humble pie
His bed is made
the colours fade
his eyes once wet are dry

The naked muse

Tonight we sleep on silken sheets
We drink fine wine and eat rare meats
On Carousel and gambling stake
Our fortunes speed, and dissipate.
It's candlelight and chandelier,
It's silver plate and crystal clear.
The nights we stay at Hotel Grand

Your multilingual business friend
Has packed her bags and fled
Leaving only ash-filled ashtrays
And the lipsticked unmade bed
The mirror on reflection
Has climbed back upon the wall
For the floor she found descended

I keep forgetting you don't love me no more
I keep forgetting you don't want me no more
I keep forgetting that you told me that you
Didn't want me around anymore
But these stupid old feet
Just head for your street
Like they've done so many times before
And this stubborn old fist

Glimpses of Nirvana
In the darkness of the night, only occasionally relieved by glimpses of Nirvana as seen through other people's windows, wallowing in a morass of self-despair made only more painful by the knowledge that all I am is of my own making ...
When everything around me, even the kitchen ceiling, has collapsed and crumbled without warning. And I am left, standing alive and well, looking up and wondering why and wherefore.
At a time like this, which exists maybe only for me, but is nonetheless real, if I can communicate, and in the telling and the bearing of my soul anything is gained, even though the words which I use are pretentious and make you cringe with embarrassment, let me remind you of the pilgrim who asked for an audience with the Dalai Lama.
He was told he must first spend five years in contemplation. After the five years, he was ushered into the Dalai Lama's presence, who said, 'Well, my son, what do you wish to know?' So the pilgrim said, 'I wish to know the meaning of life, father.'
And the Dalai Lama smiled and said, 'Well my son, life is like a beanstalk, isn't it?'
Held close by that which some despise
which some call fake, and others lies

I opened my eyes this morning and I wasn't at home in bed
There was four angels standing round me, I thought "I must be dead"
Well, I opened my eyes this morning, thought "I must be dead"
Four angels standing round me, and the room was painted red

Won't you have my sugar, on your waiting son
Take me up to heaven it's not hell where I belong
Yeah

Jostle, hassle, elbow bustle
In a swirling rainbow tussle
Caught and frozen, broken sheen
Now unites for one brief scene

Lonely in the dark I grope
The key's in my kaleidoscope

Weird goings-on at the county jail
Prisoners reading the sheriff's mail
He's strapped down to a swivel chair
Trying to swivel right out of there
Pin-striped sweet's in cell 15
Convinced his self it's all a dream
He's got a pet black tabby cat
That carries a gun and wears a stetson hat

Tulips lips oh Luskus Delph
Your baking breath breeds body 'x'
With silken measures try to gauge
The inside sweetness of your cave

Peach preserve your simmering jewel
Hid away like orphans' gruel
Help me find the widow's crack

Don't eat green meat it ain't good for you
You know it killed your brother, killed your sister too
Even fresh fried chicken on new-mown sand
Can't beat red beans eaten outa your hand

Oh Mabel, Mabel! You know I love you gal but I'm not able
Mabel, oh Mabel, please get off the kitchen table

Cellar full of diamonds, turret full of gold
All for a mermaid's locket, too much to hold
Drink the seals' blood from the ocean
Drink the whole ocean dry
Steal the moonshine from the night-time
Steal the sun from the sky

Black-skinned warrior, Zulu Queen

Walk me out in the morning dew, my honey,
Walk me out in the morning dew today.
I can't walk you out in the morning dew my honey,
I can't walk you out in the morning dew at all.

I thought I heard a young girl crying, momma,
I thought I heard a young girl cry today.
You didn't hear no young girl crying, momma,

The end of the evening, unable to cope
Unique entertainment no longer a joke
The close of the picture, the end of the show
Merciless torment, torturous blow

New lamps for old
Bright shiny gold
Innocent youth

It seems as clear as yesterday
We saw it in a dream
but dream became insanity
an awful gaping scream
So sad to see such emptiness
So sad to see such tears
And heaped up leaves of bitterness
turned mouldy down the years

А ты слышал, что случилось с Дженни Дру?
Я никак не поверю, но то правда, мой друг.
Двадцать шесть было ей, забрала её смерть.
Мне хотелось бы вместо неё умереть.

А ты слышал, что случилось с Дженни Дру?
Как росла она бледной, больной в сём миру,
Как страдала она, что как все не была.

While horsemen ride across the green
and Snow White still remains unseen.
Pegasus, the winged horse,
relays his messages by Morse.
And like some pirate sailor
We crossed the Spanish Main
And brought our magic carpet
to a marble staircased plain.

Wash yourself and see your sorrow, make every pitcher clean
Take a mop to swab the floor and destroy the evil dream
Counting houses full of lead, the evil eye on high
The streets awash with blood and pus, the new moon's in the sky
God's aloft, the winds are raging
God's aloft, the winds are cold
After leaving I was weeping - count it out in tolls
Watch the book, the page is turning - how the tale unfolds

I sat me down to write a simple story
which maybe in the end became a song
In trying to find the words which might begin it
I found these were the thoughts I brought along

At first I took my weight to be an anchor
and gathered up my fears to guide me round
but then I clearly saw my own delusion

Poor Mohammed at the peep show
Kick the beggar down the stairs
Can't keep guard, he's old and feeble
Steal his books, burn his prayers

Poor Mohammed at the keyhole
Sit him by the kitchen door
Slop his food all around the table

Climbing out of open windows
Crashing down from broken stairs
Keeping watch on smoking cinders
Falling over burning chairs

Tossed and crossed and screwed in transit
Broken , splintered, bruised and thrown
Badly shattered, gale force frighty

For you (whose eyes were opened wide whilst mine refused to see)
I'm sore in need of saving grace. Be kind and humour me
I'm lost amidst a sea of wheat
where people speak but seldom meet
And grief and laughter, strange but true
Although they die, they seldom cry

An ode by any other name I know might read more sweet

Our local picture house was showing a Batman movie
You see this guy fly up in the sky, thought to myself, 'Why shouldn't I?'
So I bought a pair of wings, went up upon a wall
I was about to jump into the air when a guy from the street called
He said, 'Hey wait a minute! Don't you realise the danger?
What do you think you are, some kind of angel?'

I considered for a minute, realised he spoke the truth.

- Beyond The Pale - — британская арт-рок-группа, образована в 1967 году. Основной состав: Гари Брукер (Gary Brooker) (р. 29 мая 1945, Эссекс; вокал, клавишные), Робин Трауэр (Robin Trower) (р. 9 марта 1945, Эссекс; гитара), Мэттью Фишер (Matthew Fisher)

Doctor where's your remedy?
I've got enough to pay the fee
Can't you see I'm awful sick?
I'll pay you well to do the trick

Doctor where's your magic box
There's no one here to count the cost
Name your price and make the sale

I've been body swerved, close observed
Down the well, kiss and tell
I've been lost and found, undergound
As good as gold, overload

I've been crazy glued, baby blued
Off the wall, too close to call
I've been Chinese rocks

She wandered through the garden fence
And said, 'i've brought at great expense
A potion guaranteed to bring
Relief from all your suffering.'
And though i said, 'you don't exist,'
She grasped me firmly by the wrist
And threw me down upon my back
And strapped me to her torture rack

My Prussian-blue electric clock's
alarm bell rings, it will not stop
and I can see no end in sight
and search in vain by candlelight
for some long road that goes nowhere
for some signpost that is not there
And even my befuddled brain
is shining brightly, quite insane

Текст песни Procol Harum - Shine On Brightly

(Brooker Reid)

My Prussian-blue electric clock's
alarm bell rings, it will not stop
and I can see no end in sight
and search in vain by candlelight

Simple sister
Got whooping cough
Have to burn her toys
Take her treats
Eat her sweets
Scare off all the boys

Simple sister

You were the player
And you played it cool
I was the stranger
And I played the fool
You were the teacher
And you were the best
I was the seeker
And I failed the test

Your convent-cloistered, cluttered mind
[calls] out for me but I'm behind
You cannot see into your room
Whose perfumed depths sing songs of doom

But I am cold and cannot see
A way out of this mystery

While standing at the junction on 42nd Street
I idly kick a pebble lying near my feet
I hear a weird noise, take a look up and down
The cause of the commotion is right there on the ground
Imagine my surprise, thought I'd left it at home
But there's no doubt about it, it's my own tombstone

I went into a shop and bought a loaf of bread

In the centre of the storm
something magic being born
When the world is torn apart
by the beating of a heart
Like a dam about to burst
Like a drunkard's crazy thirst
In the centre of the storm
something magic being born

I will meet you on the other side of the moon
The doctors say they must operate soon
But there's no knowing what they'll find when they open up the wound
I will meet you on the other side of the moon
I will meet you at the bottom of the sea
We will lie inside the ocean and scheme
Our friend the arab will guide us while we dream
I will meet you at the bottom of the sea

Bought a souvenir in London
Got to hide it from my mom
Can't declare it at the Customs
But I'll have to take it home
Tried to keep it confidential
But the news is leaking out
Got a souvenir in London
There's a lot of it about

Strangers in space
passing through time
Travellers in haste
Partners in crime
Trace of a feeling
Trace of regret
Hard to remember
Hard to forget

T.V. Caesar Mighty Mouse
Holds his court in every house
Spied in every crack and corner
Watch you eat your TV dinner
Creeping in through eyes and ears
Finding out your secret fears
T.V. Caesar Mighty Mouse
Shares the bed in every house

The Devil came from Kansas. Where he went to I can't say
Though I teach I'm not a preacher, and I aim to stay that way
There's a monkey riding on my back, been there for some time
He says he knows me very well but he's no friend of mine

I am not a humble pilgrim
there's no need to scrape and squeeze
and don't beg fors ilver paper

We’ve seen it before
The high flying act
Is it manic delusion
Or a statement of fact
That hot fevered brow
Them bright shining eyes
The hand on the heart
Those self serving lies

It's the final throw
The final blow
Break or bust
We must make our thrust
Lose or win
We can't give in
Right or wrong
We must go on

Oh the idol, oh the idol

They knew the monster's every trick
They knew his secrets every stitch
All of it had been a game
Nothing but a charlatan
Perhaps there was a chance of coming through
It even seemed that he might think it too

There was trouble in the air
Just a subtle hint of danger
And a woman dressed in black
out lookin' for a stranger
Well she took me to her room
Where she offered me a wager
She promised me the moon
So I took a chance

When you knew that I had given all the kindness that I had
Did you think that it might be time to stop?
When you knew that I was through
That I'd done all I could do
Did you really have to milk the final drop?
Not content with my mistake
You behaved just like a snake
And you left me for a wasp without a sting

And so you've made a nasty mess
You have caused your mother great distress
They're bound to even up the score
You'll get no sweeties anymore
They'll give your friends a talking to
Persuade them not to play with you

They'll tell them 'bout your awful crime

Before you go pointing the finger
Maybe you should check yourself out
Your past is wide open to question
Your future is clouded in doubt
Before you go pointing the finger
Maybe you should stand back and think
Are you gonna be making a difference
Or are you gonna be making a stink

Picture
Rush
Story
Hush
Got the picture
got the rush
Got the story
got the hush

They seek us in this unquiet zone
They chase us on from hole to hole
They hunt us down like carrion crows
They search us out like frightened moles

This surely is a dreadful war
An awful waste of guts and gore
An awful waste of human life

This world is rich, but it is not mine
Where I live, hungry children are crying
I am not angry, at my own condition
I just want people to know my position

This world is rich, but it is not mine
My people are starving, that must be a crime
When some have so much, and some have so little

She took all the pleasure and none of the pain
All of the credit and none of the blame
I came home to an empty flat
She'd left me a note and taken the cat

The cord that they knotted to keep us apart
Could never be broken: it was tied to my heart
She grew thin and I grew fat

Typewriter torment, dreadful disease
Caught it the first day I touched the keys
You wear down your fingers and churn out your pap
It eats up your life like a dose of the clap
Typewriter torment it tortures me still
If only my doctor could see that I'm ill

Typewriter fever it harries me still

You bought the pitch
The whole nine yards
The shiny dream
The house of cards
But now your dream’s
Gone down the drain
The house of cards
A house of pain

Pailing well after sixteen days, a mammoth task was set
Sack the town, and rob the tower, and steal the alphabet
Close the door and bar the gate, but keep the windows clean
God's alive inside a movie! Watch the silver screen!

Rum was served to all the traitors; pygmies held themselves in check
Bloodhounds nosed around the houses, down dark alleys sailors crept
Six bells struck, the pot was boiling - soup spilled out on passers-by

Ain't gonna ride that whisky train
Ain't gonna burn up no more flame
Throw away my bottle down the drain
Ain't gonna ride that whisky train
To think that I could be so wrong
To be so sick and still go on
The way I drink it's been too long
Don't see much point in carrying on

You know I caught a glimpse, thought I understood
But I left it all far behind
Now if I'd known then what I know now
Do you think I would've been so blind?
Gonna take myself down to a wishing well
I'm gonna make myself one last wish
And if you follow me there, better bring what you've found
'Cause my night has come and I'm going down

I'm going downstairs to be a poet
Got a great idea: gonna write a sonnet
A verse or two of fearless prose
A priceless quip to gild the rose
I'll make my fortune overnight
My work will set the world alight

Just a line is all I need

Wizard man's got a magic tooth
Carry it low but keep it loose
Don't wait for christmas when the four winds blow
When they carry you out you're gonna have to go

Wizard man's got a pocketful of lead
Keep a clear eye and a steady head
Don't wait for christmas 'cause it's bound to snow

We'll hoist a hand, becalmed upon a troubled sea
'make haste to your funeral,' cries the valkyrie
We'll hoist a hand or drown amidst this stormy sea
'here lies a coffin,' cries the cemetery, it calls to me
And all for nothing quite in vain was hope forever tossed
No thoughts explained, no moments gained, all hope forever lost
One moment's space, one moment's final fall from grace
Burnt by fire, blind in sight, lost in ire

Одна из любимых арт-роковых команд, что полыхнули в конце 60-х.
Филигрань клавишных и непереводимые тексты Брукера
что лучше всего передаются, наверное, иероглифами-образами.
Как было написано в английском переводе Пушкина:
здесь только смысловой перевод, что-б понять всю красоту пушкинского слога
вам надо в совершенстве изучить русский язык...

Так много подружек, но мало вина,