Текст и перевод песни Đorđe Balašević - Nemam Ništa S Tim

Nemam Ništa S Tim

Ona je volela blues
Njen kralj zvao se Peter Green
A ja, sasvim slučajno tu...
Za taj film neko levi, sasvim...
Uvek je gledala sat
I čim sklope kazaljke krug
Ko mala bi šaputala tad
Da negde neko misli na nju
U njenoj sobi, mala riznica greha
Kao duga, preko besmisla most...
Puno knjiga nekog prebeglog Čeha
I sportska štampa, ako naiđe gost...
Uglavnom prođe sve, ali ostane blues, boje se razliju
Kad ga čujem na radiju...
Ubija metronom... Šta taj sat radi tu?
Jedan i nula pet... Neko misli na nju
Negde u meni je kvar
I mrak što me gricka ko miš
I sav sam kao ona staklena stvar
U kojoj veje kada je pomeriš
U ovoj sobi ravnoteža je prosta
Sto i krevet i prekidač za luč
Ispod cena mole cenjenog gosta
Da pre puta ne zaboravi ključ
Uglavnom prođe sve, ali ostane blues, boje se razliju
Kad ga čujem na radiju...
Ubija metronom... Šta taj sat radi tu?
Jedan i nula pet... Neko misli na nju
Ona je volela blues, o je
Lucidni Peter Green...
A ja, ja sam voleo nju...
A blues... Šta blues?
Nemam ništa sa tim

I Don't Care About That

She loved the blues
Her king was called Peter Green
And there I was, completely by chance...
For that film, a sort of left-wing, completely...
She was always watching the clock
And as soon as the hands closed in a circle
She'd whisper as a little girl
That somewhere someone was thinking of her
In her room, a small treasury of sins
Like a rainbow, a bridge over nothingness...
A lot of books by some runaway Czech
And sports news, in case a guest happened to drop by
Basically everything goes by, but the blues remain, the colors mix together
When I hear it on the radio...
The metronome kills me... Why is that clock there?
One and five past ten... Someone's thinking of her
Something's broken inside me
And the darkness that nibbles at me like a mouse
And I am just like that glass thing
In which the wind blows when you move it
In this room, balance is simple
A table and a bed and a light switch
Under the price tag, a plea to the esteemed guest
Not to forget the key before the journey
Basically everything goes by, but the blues remain, the colors mix together
When I hear it on the radio...
The metronome kills me... Why is that clock there?
One and five past ten... Someone's thinking of her
She loved the blues, oh yeah
Lucid Peter Green...
And me, I loved her...
And blues... What about blues?
I don't care about that