Paroles et traduction Hladno Pivo - Pitala Si Me ...

Pitala Si Me ...

Pitala si me zašto tvoje ime
Nikad ne provlačim kroz rime
Zašto ga nikad ne ukrasim metaforama krasnim
Pa da se time hvališ kolegicama s posla

Ma nema šanse, nema tih para
Da mi ikad budeš dio repertoara
Pa da tvoje ime pjevuši 'ko stigne
Da si svako tek tako na brzinu puni tišine

Mislim da bih razbio gitaru
Da čujem da te fućkaju na pisoaru
Da me jednog dana gledaš poniženo
Iz kuta dućana gdje je sve u pola sniženo

Ova pjesma o tebi koja si mi sve na svijetu
Ovaj pokušaj da kazem neizrecivo
Nikad se neće naći na nekom CD-u
Imati naslov, cijenu i bar kod

Zar da radio voditelj kreštava glasa
Preko naše himne traži vlasnike pasa
Da se cereka i kao dobra je zeka
U svaki jebeni singl ubaciti dzingl

Nista nije sveto
Sve je bruto i neto
Sve je zabava

Bitno da nešto svira za žedna uha
Da nikog ne dira dok pere il' kuha
Da narodu skrati onih osam sati
I da lijepo stane među dvije reklame

Ova pjesma o tebi koja si mi sve na svijetu
Ovaj pokušaj da kažem neizrecivo
Nikad se neće naći na nekom CD-u
Imati naslov, cijenu i bar kod

Pitala si me zašto tvoje ime
Nikad ne provlačim kroz rime
Zašto ga nikad ne ukrasim metaforama krasnim
Pa da se time hvališ kolegicama s posla

You Asked Me ...

You asked me why I never run your name
Through my rhyme, never game
Why I never decorate it with fancy metaphors
For you to brag to your office whores

Not a chance, I'm not made of money
For you to ever be part of my honey
To sing your name and make it last
To fill the silence with your name so fast

I think I'd smash my guitar
If I ever heard them blasting you in the urinal
If one day I saw you looking humiliated
In the corner of a store where everything is half-priced

This song about you who mean the world to me
This attempt to say what I can't express
Will never end up on a CD
With a title, price, and bar code

For a radio host with a raspy voice
To ask for dog owners over our anthem
To laugh and act like a good rabbit
To put a jingle in every damn single

Nothing is sacred
Everything is gross and net
Everything is fun

What matters is that there's something playing for thirsty ears
That doesn't annoy them while they're washing or cooking
To shorten the eight hours for people
And to fit nicely between two commercials

This song about you who mean the world to me
This attempt to say what I can't express
Will never end up on a CD
With a title, price, and bar code

You asked me why I never run your name
Through my rhyme, never game
Why I never decorate it with fancy metaphors
For you to brag to your office whores