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  • Текст песни George Michael - Playing For Time

    Исполнитель: George Michael
    Название песни: Playing For Time
    Дата добавления: 25.02.2019 | 15:44:02
    Просмотров: 6
    0 чел. считают текст песни верным
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    Здесь расположен текст песни George Michael - Playing For Time, перевод и видео.
    These are the days of the open hand
    They will not be the last
    Look around now
    These are the days of the beggars and the choosers

    This is the year of the hungry man
    Whose place is in the past
    Hand in hand with ignorance
    And legitimate excuses

    The rich declare themselves poor
    And most of us are not sure
    If we have too much
    But we'll take our chances
    Because God's stopped keeping score
    I guess somewhere along the way
    He must have let us all out to play
    Turned his back and all Gods children
    Crept out the back door

    And it's hard to love, there's so much to hate
    Hanging on to hope
    When there is no hope to speak of
    And the wounded skies above
    Say it's much, much too late
    Well maybe we should all be praying for time

    These are the days of the empty hand
    Oh you hold on to what you can
    And charity is a coat you wear twice a year

    This is the year of the guilty man
    Your television takes a stand
    And you find that what was over
    There is over here

    So you scream from behind your door
    Say what's mine is mine and not yours
    I may have too much but I'll take my chances
    Because God's stopped keeping score
    And you cling to the things they sold you
    Did you cover your eyes when they told you
    That he can't come back
    Because he has no children to come back for

    It's hard to love there's so much to hate
    Hanging on to hope when there is no hope to speak of
    And the wounded skies above say
    It's much too late
    So maybe we should all be praying for time
    ----------------------------------------------------
    Мольба

    Настало время щедрости в сердцах,
    Оно ведь так недолговечно.
    Взгляни вокруг - здесь кто-то господин,
    А кто-то милостыню просит.

    Ах, сколько страждующих в наши дни,
    Все это должно было остаться в прошлом
    Со всем этим невежеством,
    И нелепыми оправданиями.

    Богатые уверяют нас в своей нищите,
    И многие из нас задаются вопросом:
    "А достаточно ли мы имеем благ?"
    Но мы не упустим своего шанса,
    Ведь Господь больше за этим не следит.
    Наверное, когда-то давно
    Он как бы выпустил нас погулять во двор,
    Затем отвернулся на секундочку и все дети
    Улизнули через потайной лаз.

    Очень трудно любить, когда столько всего вызывает ненависть,
    Верить в надежду,
    Когда ее совсем нет.
    И слышать, как раненые небеса над головой твердят о том,
    Что уже слишком, слишком поздно.
    Но, быть может, время принесет утешение.

    Настали дни, когда за душой ни гроша,
    И нужно как-то жить дальше,
    И щедрость - это всего лишь пальто, которое мы надеваем два раза в год.

    Сегодня телевидение огрызается на всех людей
    Хоть с каким-нибудь достатком, (1)
    И ты понимаешь, что здесь, что там -
    Везде одно и то же.

    Мы негодуем и кричим из за двери своего дома:
    "Что мое - то мое! И не трожьте никто!"
    Возможно у меня всего достаточно, но я не остановлюсь на этом,
    Ведь Господь все равно не видит.
    И ты хочешь вцепиться в купленные вещи
    И закрываешь глаза в истоме,
    Зная, что он не придет,
    Ведь у него больше нет детей

    Очень трудно любить, когда столько всего вызывает ненависть,
    Верить в надежду, когда ее совсем нет.
    И слышать как небеса над головой твердят так больно о том,
    Что уже слишком, слишком поздно.
    Но, быть может, время принесет утешение.

    1 - дословно: Это год виновного, Ваше телевидение отстаивает свою позицию
    These days
    They will not be the last
    Look around now
    These are the days of the beggars and the choosers

    Hungry man
    Whose place is in the past
    Hand in hand with ignorance
    And legitimate excuses

    The rich declare themselves poor
    And most of us are not sure
    If we have too much
    But we take our chances
    Because keep stopped score
    I guess somewhere along the way
    He must have
    Turned back
    Crept out the back door

    And it's hard to love, there's so much to hate.
    Hanging on to hope
    When there is no hope to speak of
    And the wounded skies above
    Say it's much, much too late
    Well maybe we should be praying for time

    These days
    Oh you hold on
    And charity is a coat you wear twice a year

    This is the year of the guilty man
    Your television takes a stand
    And you find that what was over
    There is over here

    So you scream from behind your door
    Say what's mine
    I may have too much
    Because keep stopped score
    And you are clinging to the things they sold you
    Did you cover your eyes when they told you
    That he can't come back
    Because

    It's hard to love
    Hanging on to hope
    And the wounded skies above say
    It's much too late
    So maybe we should all be praying for time
    -------------------------------------------------- -
    Plea

    It is time for generosity in the hearts
    It is so short-lived.
    Take a look around - there is someone here,
    And someone asks for alms.

    Oh, how many who suffer in our day,
    All this should have been a thing of the past.
    With all this ignorance,
    And ridiculous excuses.

    The rich assure us of their poverty
    And many of us are wondering:
    "Do we have enough wealth?"
    But we will not miss our chance
    After all, the Lord does not follow this anymore.
    Probably once upon a time
    He kinda let us walk out into the courtyard,
    Then turned away for a second and all the kids
    Slid away through the secret hole.

    It is very difficult to love when so much hate causes,
    Believe in hope
    When it is not at all.
    And to hear the wounded heaven above reiterate
    Which is already too, too late.
    But perhaps time will bring consolation.

    The days have come when the soul is penniless
    And you need to somehow live on,
    And generosity is just a coat that we wear twice a year.

    Today, television is snapping at all people.
    Though with any income, (1)
    And you understand that there, that there -
    Everywhere the same thing.

    We are indignant and shout from behind the door of our house:
    "What is mine is mine! And do not touch anyone!"
    Maybe I have enough, but I will not stop there,
    After all, the Lord still does not see.
    And you want to cling to the purchased items
    And you close your eyes in languor,
    Knowing that he will not come,
    After all, he no longer has children

    It is very difficult to love when so much hate causes,
    To believe in hope when it is not at all.
    And to hear how the heavens above the head say so painfully that
    Which is already too, too late.
    But perhaps time will bring consolation.

    1 - literally: This is the year of the guilty, your television defends its position

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