Lyrics and translation Chumbawamba - Refugee
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It's
good
of
you
to
ask
me
sir
Хорошо,
что
вы
спросили,
сударыня,
How
I
spend
my
days
Как
проходят
мои
дни.
Water
glass
and
ladders
sir
Стакан
воды
и
лестницы,
сударыня,
Working
for
my
pay
Работаю
за
гроши.
Back
home
I
saw
a
future
sir
Дома
я
видел
будущее,
сударыня,
Learnt
my
father's
trade
But
here
that
counts
for
nothing
sir
Освоил
ремесло
отца.
Но
здесь
это
ничего
не
значит,
сударыня,
Paradise
betrayed
Разрушенный
рай.
Looking
through
the
windows
Смотрю
сквозь
окна,
All
your
world
to
see
Вижу
весь
ваш
мир.
To
you
I'm
just
another
refugee
Для
вас
я
всего
лишь
очередной
беженец.
My
mother
needs
the
money
sir
Моей
матери
нужны
деньги,
сударыня,
It's
hard
to
make
ends
meet
Трудно
свести
концы
с
концами.
Two
more
children
still
in
school
Еще
двое
детей
в
школе,
Hungry
mouths
to
feed
Голодные
рты
нужно
кормить.
Looking
through
the
windows
Смотрю
сквозь
окна,
All
your
world
to
see
Вижу
весь
ваш
мир.
To
you
I'm
just
another
refugee
Для
вас
я
всего
лишь
очередной
беженец.
Now
this
country
is
my
home
Теперь
эта
страна
мой
дом,
This
land
of
auctioneers
Эта
страна
аукционистов.
Cast
your
eye
upon
me
sir
Взгляните
на
меня,
сударыня,
What
price
the
dreams
that
brought
me
here?
Какова
цена
мечтам,
что
привели
меня
сюда?
Looking
through
the
windows
Смотрю
сквозь
окна,
All
your
world
to
see
Вижу
весь
ваш
мир.
Forever
just
another
refugee.
Навсегда
всего
лишь
очередной
беженец.
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Writer(s): Neil Ferguson, Allan Whalley, Louise Watts, Judith Abbott
The Boy Bands Have Won, and All the Copyists and the Tribute Bands and the TV Talent Show Producers Have Won, If We Allow Our Culture to Be Shaped by Mimicry, Whether from Lack of Ideas or From Exaggerated Respect. You Should Never Try to Freeze Culture. What You Can Do Is Recycle That Culture. Take Your Older Brother's Hand-Me-Down Jacket and Re-Style It, Re-Fashion It to the Point Where It Becomes Your Own. But Don't Just Regurgitate Creative History, or Hold Art and Music and Literature as Fixed, Untouchable and Kept Under Glass. The People Who Try to 'Guard' Any Particular Form of Music Are, Like the Copyists and Manufactured Bands, Doing It the Worst Disservice, Because the Only Thing That You Can Do to Music That Will Damage It Is Not Change It, Not Make It Your Own. Because Then It Dies, Then It's Over, Then It's Done, and the Boy Bands Have Won.
2008
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