Tim Minchin все тексты (слова) песен, переводы, видео, клипы

My people rang me up a couple of weeks ago,
(Yeah I’ve got people, and a phone, and a sense of the passage of time)
Yeah they rang me up, said, “Tim, do you wanna do The Royal Variety show?”
They want you to sing a song, it’ll be fine, fine, fine.

But the problem with my particular oeuvre
Is that half my songs are five minutes and over
And the wisdom here at ITV

People can't help but point and laugh
when I proudly show them his photograph
They stare at his obsolete wings
they don't appreciate the songs that he sings
they joke that his pokey proboscis
must get in the way when we kiss
but I don't listen
I can take their flack

Beauty is a harlot
She will dance with any bastard
She's undiscerning in her choice of partners
I could have her of course if I wish
But I object to her promiscuousness
Beauty just doesn't suit me

For beauty is a harlot

Take your canvas bags
When you go to the supermarket
Why use plastic bags when you know
You know the world can't take it

Take your canvas bags
When you go to the supermarket, market, market
Don't you use those plastic ones, no, no, no

I sit, here as for twenty years I’ve sat,
wearing my music critic’s hat.
I mean it’s clearly not an actual hat.
It’s metaphorical.
And in those twenty years I’m sad
to say these wondrous promenades
have gone from bad to worse to bad
to pretty crap to bloody horrible.

I believe that women have the right
To walk the streets at night
And not be afraid for their lives
And I believe that a woman has the right
To choose what happens to her body
Without suffering the judgement
Of the conservative right

I can have a dark side
If you want me to
I can have a dark side
I can develop my brooding potential
If pain's what you want in a man
Pain I can do
I can have a dark side, too
I can have a dark side...

Your love is like finger nails on a chalkboard
Your love is like throwing myself overboard
A breakdown on a motorway
A heart attack on Christmas day
Like scaling a cliff then falling off
Like trying not to cough

And I didn't see this one coming, now I'm in too deep

You can have my body
You can steal my car
You can take my money
You can have what you like but it won't get you very far
'cause my heart belongs to an eighteen year old lesbian

You can be my lover
We can have a fling

I've been having quite a problem recently
Which is quite disturbing musicalically
Involving a semitonal discrepancy
Vocally and instrumentally

You see musicians of different varieties
Prefer playing in particular keys
And singers, too, treat preferentially

I would be a liar if I pretended to admire,
The redlight windscreen cleaning empire that you've built,
But my heart is good, it's not a thing of stone or wood,
I'll give you $0.50 to take away my guilt.

I give money to folk that just don't have enough,
To try to justify the future purchases of stuff,
That I don't need, I know that one less vodka cranberry tonight,

It's just like 1984... Have we no privacy no more?
Can't I have a little sleep outside the pub, say
Or a vomit near a subway
Or use a postbox as a crapper
Without some omnipresent snapper
Catching me with my pants around my knees
In fully searchable three hundred and sixty degrees.

Judas
My mind is clearer now
At last
All too well
I can see
Where we all
Soon will be
If you strip away

Don't ask me to stop making you coffee in the morning
everybody has there forte.
Don't ask me to change my socks while dancing in the bedroom,
everyone needs momentary fame.

I'd never dream of asking you to discontinue use
of my therapeudic pillow, no no.
I'd never dream of asking you to dress in any garment

If I Didn't Have You Lyrics

Yep yeah
If I didn't have you

If I didn't have you to hold me tight
(If I didn't have you)
If I didn't have you to lie with at night

Yeah, yeah
If I didn't have you

If I didn't have you to hold me tight
(If I didn't have you)
If I didn't have you to lie with at night
(When I'm feeling blue)
If I didn't have you to share my sights

If you really loved me the way you say you do,
If you love me half as much as I love you
You would pluck a planet from the sky,
You would use a star to dot the "i".

In "I love you..." that is what you do:
You’d take a dreary day and you would paint it blue,
If you loved me unconditionally

Your love for me is not debatable
Your sexual appetite's insatiable
You never ever make me waitable
Delectable, inflatable you.

You don't have problems with your weight at all
You never steal food off my plate at all
I never have to masturbate at all

He looks at me intensely
Eyes contact lens green with artifical envy
Cocks his head and fixes me with a condescending stare
Flicks his bleached, blond tipped hair
And theorises thus:

"You know what I reckon?"
Pause for effect

I am not
I am not a polyglot
I can only speak one language
I hope you comprendez (vous)
I can see
You’re listening but not hearing me
Like Tarzan gripping onto a grapevine
You’re looking for street signs

We've got years ahead of us
We've got people who care for us
We've got Sunday morning coffees in the sun
We've got Monday night television

We've got years of happiness
We've got decades of laughter ahead of us
We've got Christmases with family by the sea

sarah wears my t-shirts in the mornings they go half way down her thighs
sarah sleeps spread out across my bed but she knows the fan will always be mine

sarah laughs arpeggios when she finds something funny on her own
already asleep when i get home and when i wake she’s already gone

maybe i’ve been listening to the beatles’ abbey road for far too long
maybe i will never be a poet, but who needs poetry in a lovesong

Fuck the motherfucker, fuck the motherfucker,
Fuck the motherfucker hes a fucking motherfucker.
Fuck the motherfucker, fuck the fucking fucker,
Fuck the motherfucker hes a total fucking fucker
Fuck the motherfucker, fuck the motherfucker,
Fuck the mother fucker, fuck him, fuck the motherfucker.
Fuck the motherfucker, fuck the motherfucking pope.

In our modern free-spoken society
There is a word that we still hold taboo
A word with a terrible history
Of being used to abuse, oppress and subdue
Just six seemingly harmless letters
Arranged in a way that will form a word
With more power than the pieces of metal
That are forged to make swords

He doesn't have a problem with drugs
He just doesn't get them.
He's fine that his mates have tattoos
But he thinks they'll regret them.
He likes going to pubs
But he hates when the music's too loud.
He tends not to go to rock concerts
Cause he can't stand the crowd.

Drove out of town, took a left onto a northbound highway.
Or was it really only yesterday.
If I'd known what now I know maybe I
Would have taken a moment.
Maybe looked over my shoulder.
Maybe she'd a tear.
Now I'm here.

I saw your weeping eyes reflected in the window of a Boeing 727.
You looked down at the city, saw it slowly growing tiny,
As the sunset turned Hell's Kitchen into heaven.

You turned your face to me, and I tucked your hair behind your ears,
Said, nothing can go wrong,
So long as we are together, so long as we are, so long,
So long as we are together, so long as we are, so long.

Well I wake up in the morning at 11:47 and I can’t believe I have to face the horror of another fucking day

And the magnificent magnitude of my morning erection merely mocks me like the sun in its optimistic greeting of the day

Managing to manifest a modicum of motivation I meander to the kitchen make a mission out of mixing Nescafe

But the milk is going off and coffee by itself is bitter and there’s ants all through the sugar and the supermarket’s fucking miles away

“Storm”

Inner North London, top floor flat
All white walls, white carpet, white cat,
Rice Paper partitions
Modern art and ambition
The host’s a physician,
Lovely bloke, has his own practice

So you're gonna live in Paradise,
With a ten-foot cock and a few hundred virgins.
So you're gonna live in Paradise,
With a ten-foot cock and a few hundred virgins,
So you're gonna sacrifice your life
For a ride on a UFO,
And when the Lord comes down with his shimmering chariot of salvation,
You're gonna be the first to know.

I have an apology to make
I'm afraid I've made a big mistake
I turned my face away from you, Lord

I was too blind to see the light
I was too weak to feel Your might
I closed my eyes; I couldn't see the truth, Lord

After a show in Australia, Tim was confronted by a man named Sam, who claimed that God cured his mum's cataracts. Tim was asking for the evidence of God presence and that was finally it. This song is Tim's response.

==================

I have an apology to make,
I’m afraid I made a big mistake,
I turned my face away from You, Lord.
I was too blind to see the light,

Somewhere in your wardrobe, I’d be willing to bet
There’s a t-shirt proudly bearing the silhouette
Of Che Guevara.
He was revolutionary, yeah he wore a cool hat
But behind the design I think you might find
It’s not quite as simple than that.

Che was a bit of a homophobe,

Life is like an ocean voyage and our bodies are the ships
And without a moral compass we would all be cast adrift
So to keep us on our bearings, the Lord gave us a gift
And like most gifts you get, it was a book

I only read one book, but it's a good book, don't you know
I act the way I act because the Good Book tells me so
If I wanna known how to be good, it's to the Good Book that I go

Fuck the motherfucker
Fuck the motherfucker
Fuck the motherfucker
He's a fucking motherfucker

Fuck the motherfucker
Fuck the fucking fucker
Fuck the motherfucker

Did you really think that I would love you again?
Did you think I’d just forgive the things that you’ve done to me?
You must think I’m a masochist
I’d just as soon go and slit my wrists
As take you back again
Who do you think I am?

Did you think I’d just sit around and wait for you to sort out your stuff?

“THREE-MINUTE SONG” LYRICS:

(Say “Clock” = Start Clock)

My people rang me up a couple of weeks ago
Yeah, I’ve got people; and a phone; and a grasp on the passage of time
Yeah they rang me up, said “Tim, will you go on Ruth Jones show
They want you to sing a song, it’ll be fine, fine, fine”

GIRL
When I grow up
I will be tall enough to reach the branches
That I need to reach to climb the trees
You get to climb when you're grown up

BOY
And when I grow up

I'm looking forward to Christmas
It's sentimental I know
But I just really like it

I am hardly religious
I’d rather break bread with Dawkins than Desmond Tutu
To be honest

Jesus was a Jewish philosopher
Had a lot of nice ideas
About our existential fears
Much admired by his peers
Short and Jewish and quite political
Often hesitant and very analytical

Praise be to Jesus

You grew on me like a tumour
And you spread through me like malignant melanoma
And now you’re in my heart
I should’ve cut you out back at the start

Now I’m afraid there’s no cure for me
No dose of emotional chemotherapy
Can halt my pathetic decline