Текст и перевод песни Jack Parow - Eksie Ou

Eksie Ou

Voor die gym voor dit opmaak, met n protein shake
2ure op die treadmill anders is ons spyt
Mens health covers, voel altyd fokken great
Want al wat regtig tel innie lewe is hoe jy lyk
Innie bed teen 8uur met n goeie fokken boek
Groot innie bolyf, ma lig innie broek
Tel die energade op, brandy moet jy neersit
Hang nog by clubs uit al is ons amper 40
Date net dom blondes, want dis fokken maklik
Probeer heeltyd diep wees, ma bly oppervlakig
Lifestyle centres en clinique for men
Lifestyle blogs, lyk soos barbie se ken
Pims en fokken lemonade, kuai en buzz
Nul personality, lifenhancing drugs
So klap jou fokken hanne vir die moffies met die guns
En kom soek parow by die bar as jy lus is vir n man

Sit heel voor in die kerk, ons lewe bo ons ryk
Ons bid alweer vir werk, die bediende moet mos stryk
Kaarte by woolworths en edgars accounts
Country road vat my huis toe, die last boy scout
Nog n huisie in n kompleks, twee karre innie garage,
Mug en bean breakfasts, eet net ceaser salaads
Bybel innie handsak, ma as dit moeilik gan dan skei ons
Cafe oppie straat hoek, ma as ons iets soek dan ry ons
Mannies en peddies, botox en lifts
Tuinboys en nanys, mouldy en miff
Ons huis lyk soos n ad vir mr.price home
Ons almal fokken lyk soos moerse nice clones
Getroued met mr.min, gemis deur min,
Bloed rooi fokken lipstick en hare mooi geperm
Familie vakansies op knysna of plet

Asb kan iemand ons net fokken red

Ons dra brille sonder lense, bly in open plan flats
Vol bal en klou tafels en opgerolde yoga mats
Side path hairstyles en sailor tatoos
Ons facebook vol gepak van fotos van on shoes
Rook net tabak deur ou oom pype
Dit proe dalk soos kak ma dit lyk baie greater
Nog n kak fotograaf, nog n ice fokken model
Nog n graphic designer, nog n valpre bottle
Vintage fokken klere, ryk soos homeless shelters
Probeer almal different wees, ma lyk die fokken selfde
Praat met n aksent ma kom van die kaap af
Jy kan ons drop in n music video straight vanie straat af
Ons almal speel in bands, ma speel nooit fokken shows nie
Ons is almal selfcontious omdat niemand ons onthou nie
Nog n band uit die paarl, nog n waste of space
Nog n and union bier, nog fokol om te wys
Sandwich by superette, wyn by by power and glory
Meestal by die bar want ons lewens is te boring
Nog n klein biekie makeup, lyk soos n post mortom
Nog n pose, nog n smile, nog n album op we are awesome

Exy Lady

Before the gym opens, with a protein shake
2 hours on the treadmill, otherwise we'll regret it
Mens health covers, always feelin' fuckin' great
Because all that really matters in life is how you look
In bed by 8 o'clock with a good fuckin' book
Big upper body, but light in the pants
Pick up the Energade, put down the brandy
Still hangin' out at clubs even though we're almost 40
Only date dumb blondes, because it's fuckin' easy
Always tryin' to be deep, but stayin' superficial
Lifestyle centres and clinique for men
Lifestyle blogs, lookin' like Barbie's chin
Pimm's and fuckin' lemonade, tipsy and buzzed
Zero personality, life-enhancing drugs
So clap your fuckin' hands for the queens with the guns
And come find Parow at the bar if you're lookin' for a man

Sit right up front in church, we live above our means
We pray for work again, the maid has to iron, you see
Woolworths cards and Edgars accounts
Country Road takes me home, the last boy scout
Another house in a complex, two cars in the garage
Mug and Bean breakfasts, only eat Caesar salads
Bible in the handbag, but if things get tough, we divorce
Cafe on the street corner, but if we need somethin', we drive
Manicures and pedicures, Botox and lifts
Gardeners and nannies, moldy and miffed
Our house looks like an ad for Mr. Price Home
We all fuckin' look like really nice clones
Married to Mr. Minimum, missed by few
Blood red fuckin' lipstick and hair nicely permed
Family vacations in Knysna or Plett

Please can someone just fuckin' save us

We wear glasses without lenses, live in open plan flats
Full of balls and claw tables and rolled up yoga mats
Side-path hairstyles and sailor tattoos
Our Facebook packed full of photos of On shoes
Only smoke tobacco through old uncle pipes
It might taste like shit but it looks much cooler
Another crappy photographer, another ice fuckin' model
Another graphic designer, another Valpre bottle
Vintage fuckin' clothes, rich like homeless shelters
Everyone tries to be different, but looks the fuckin' same
Talk with an accent but come from the Cape
You can drop us in a music video straight from the street
We all play in bands, but never play fuckin' shows
We're all self-conscious because nobody remembers us
Another band from Paarl, another waste of space
Another &Union beer, still nothin' to show
Sandwich at the corner store, wine at Power and Glory
Mostly at the bar because our lives are too boring
A little more makeup, lookin' like a post-mortem
Another pose, another smile, another album on We Are Awesome