Paroles et traduction BAP - Saach, Wat Ess Bloss Passiert?

Saach, Wat Ess Bloss Passiert?

Jeff dir kein Möh, du bess längs durchschaut. Du övverdrievs, du laachs zo laut. Ding Häng sinn kalt un du transpiriers. Du wirks nervös, wirks deplaziert. Weiß, wie du neu′rdings op mich rungersiehs un wie du hinger mingem Rögge sprichs. Ich kenn die Scene, en der du jetz verkehrs un och dä Komiker, dä dich en Papa's Cabrio römmfährt. Saach, ess dat wirklich dinge Ahnz, dat du met su ′ner Luffpump penns, met su 'nem Weichei vun 'nem Stenz? Ich daach, du hätts et längs kapiert, wat ech ess un wat imitiert. Saach, wat ess bloß passiert? Op dinger Täsch steht M.
C.
M. Läufs du demnähx me′m Pudel römm, em Jäckchekleid wie en Lottofee, met Bussi do un Bussi he? Ahn wat für Köpp häss du jetz Spaß? Stemmp, die hätts du met mir verpass. O.
K., vun mir uss Frollein vun un zo, ich wünsch dir′n schön Saison met dingem Gigolo. Unfaßbar, du als Beistellfrau! En baby-rosa, himmelblau, Angora, Kaschmir un Mohair! Wat ess dat ei'ntlich für′n Fijur? Wat ess dat für'n Karikatur? Wo kritt mer su ′n Erscheinung her? .met su nem wichtje Telephon. Saach, ess dä ir'ndjet usser Sohn? Saach, nimms du dä em Ähnz für voll? Ich daach, du wöhrs ir′ndwo Ästhet un wöss, dat su 'ne Typ nit jeht. Kanns du mir'ns saare, wat dat soll?! Saach, ess dat wirklich dinge Ähnz, dat du met su ′ner Null römmrenns? Ich daach, du hätts ir′ndjet kapiert. Saach, wat ess bloß passiert?

Bitch, What The Hell Happened?

Don't kid yourself, you've long been figured out. You overdo it, you laugh too loud. Your hands are cold and you sweat. You seem nervous, you seem out of place. I know how you've been looking down on me lately, and how you talk behind my back. I know the scene you're hanging out in now, and I know the comedian who drives you around in his daddy's convertible. Tell me, is that really your thing, to hang out with such a loser, with such a wimp? I thought you had realised long ago what I am and what you're just imitating. Tell me, what the hell happened? On your bag it says M.
C.
M. Will you soon be walking my poodle, dressed in a jacket like a lottery fairy, blowing kisses left and right? Who's the new so-called lover of your life? Bet you blew it with me. O.
K., if you want to be called Miss from now on, I wish you a nice season with your gigolo. How pathetic, you as a kept woman! In baby pink, baby blue, angora, cashmere and mohair! What kind of figure is this? What kind of caricature? Where do you find such an appearance, with such an important telephone. Tell me, is he anything more than a son? Tell me, do you take him seriously? I thought you had some sense of style and knew that this kind of guy is a loser. Can you tell me what the point of all this is?! Tell me, is that really your thing, to hang out with such a zero? I thought you had a clue. Tell me, what the hell happened?