Текст и перевод песни Robbie Wessels - Liewe Ouers

Liewe Ouers

Liewe Ouers

Ons is twee Suid-Afrikaners in 'n backpacker iewers in Europa in 'n Stad.
Ons ken 'n mielie en 'n stroper en 'n John Deer trekker ons het die weer en die kultuur geonderskat.
Want hier sit ons in 'n kamer met 'n Ausie en Kiwi en 'n Duitster en Ier en twee Japs.
En almal behalwe ek en Stevie bestudeer opgewonde hulle maps
Hulle chat oor als wat hul gaan sien, watter museums en watter outydse geboue
Ek en Stevie chat oor rugby en oor twee duisend en tien se sokker world cup en sy broer se rowwe troue
Maar in ons sak is daar 'n padkaart van 'n hele ander missie
Praat nie uit nie dit is konfidensieel
Dis 'n Suid-Afrikaanse kompetisie om te ontsnap uit die backpacker perseel.

Middernag sopas. Check
Balaklawa Kompas. Check.
Walkie-talkie toets oor en uit
Stevie jy is bravo een move uit
Bravo een bravo een kom in. Identifiseer jou posisie
Bravo een staan by ek is alreeds in die dak baie stof en ek het bitter swak visie.

Liewe ouers hier's 'n rot, hiers 'n rot en hy is groter as 'n dassie.
Liewe ouers dis'n rot of nee wag ek sweer dit is 'n dassie.
Liewe ouers

Meanwhile by die huis is daar 'n spitbraai
Iewers langs die Bronkhorstspruitdam
Daar is mielies en sosaties en 'n bak slaai, braaibroodjies met tamatie, kaas en ham
En die manne staan in speedos om die vuurtjie en bespiegel oor die Hane en die Ausie en die Kiwi
Wie was die beste kaptein John Smit of Corné Krige en hul wonder nou hoe gaan dit met ek en Stevie
Hulle imagine hoe ons kuier, hoe ons girls op chat met ons rough looks en ons Afrika aksent.
Hoe ons outydse geboue en museums verken, Brussels, Brugge en Parys en ook Gent.
Maar iewers in Europa in 'n gryserige stad sit 'n bang Suid- Afrikaner in 'n dak
Hy mis 'n mielie en 'n stroper sy Jack Russel en sy kat en 'n somer warm Afrika sonsak.

Balaklawa kompas check.
Kopliggie harnas check.
Walkie-talkie toets oor en uit.
Ok, ek is Bravo twee move uit.
Bravo een bravo een kom in identifiseer jou posisie
Bravo een staan by jyt nog nooit so iets gesien nie ek is skyt bang asseblief bel die polisie.

Liewe ouers nog 'n rot, nog 'n rot en hy is groter as 'n staffie
Liewe ouers dis 'n rot of nee wag ek sweer dit is 'n staffie.
Liewe ouers

Dear Parents

Dear Parents

We're two South Africans in a backpacker's somewhere in Europe, in some city.
We know a cornfield, a combine harvester, and a John Deere tractor, but we underestimated the weather and the culture.
Because here we are, stuck in a room with an Aussie, a Kiwi, a German girl, an Irishman, and two Japanese guys.
And everyone except me and Stevie is excitedly studying their maps.
They're chatting about everything they're going to see, what museums and ancient buildings to visit.
Me and Stevie are chatting about rugby, the 2010 Soccer World Cup, and his brother's wild wedding.
But in our pocket, we have a roadmap for a whole different mission.
Don't talk about it, it's confidential.
It's a South African competition to escape from this backpacker's hostel.

Midnight, just hit. Check.
Balaclava, compass. Check.
Walkie-talkie, testing, over and out.
Stevie, you're Bravo One, move out.
Bravo One, Bravo One, come in. Identify your position.
Bravo One standing by. I'm already in the attic, lots of dust and I have terrible visibility.

Dear parents, there's a rat here, a rat, and it's bigger than a dassie.
Dear parents, it's a rat, or wait, I swear it's a dassie.
Dear parents.

Meanwhile, back home, there's a spit braai going on.
Somewhere near the Bronkhorstspruit Dam.
There's corn, sosaties, a bowl of salad, and braaibroodjies with tomato, cheese, and ham.
The guys are standing around the fire in their Speedos, discussing the Springboks, the Aussies, and the Kiwis.
Who was the best captain, John Smit or Corné Krige? And they're wondering how me and Stevie are doing.
They imagine us partying, chatting up girls with our rough looks and our African accents.
They picture us exploring ancient buildings and museums, Brussels, Bruges, Paris, and Ghent.
But somewhere in Europe, in a grey city, a scared South African sits in an attic.
He misses a cornfield, a combine harvester, his Jack Russel, his cat, and a warm African sunset.

Balaclava, compass, check.
Headlamp, harness, check.
Walkie-talkie, testing, over and out.
Okay, I'm Bravo Two, moving out.
Bravo One, Bravo One, come in. Identify your position.
Bravo One standing by. You've never seen anything like this, I'm scared shitless, please call the police.

Dear parents, another rat, another rat, and it's bigger than a Staffie.
Dear parents, it's a rat, or wait, I swear it's a Staffie.
Dear parents.