The Rumjacks — Mclaughlins Rant tekst piosenki i tłumaczenie
Strona zawiera teksty i polskie tłumaczenie piosenki "Mclaughlins Rant", wykonawca: The Rumjacks.
Tekst piosenki
Well I’ve come here for the gargle, not tae cop a blast,
Ye great thick headit ape, I’ll stick yer chin right out yer arse,
Come lookin' for your pound o' flesh, but I’ve got nothin' left,
Cause Christian Brothers & Brides o' Christ’ve flogged me half to death.
Suck on this ye Succubus, your star’ll never rise,
Ye’ve the smell o' death about your breath & bullet holes for eyes,
I wish that I were sober, the day I made you mine,
Oh pull the piggin door behind ye, thank you for your time,
Bastards! A shower o' pricks, the likes ye’ve never known,
Rake em, break em, Devil may take em, down to Hell below.
Oh as I set out on my way all naked and alone,
Guard my back, guide me forth & bring me safely home,
Geez half a life, a decent wife, my share o' love & trust,
And when I’m gone, the long & restful slumber of the just.
They’ll ride ye to the gates o' Hell, drive ye to the brew,
'til every penny’s splashin' off the wall against your shoe,
Ye’ll get yer feed o' spurs & a few choice feckin' words,
Then its back to picks & shovels, cause that’s all they’ll let ye do.
Tłumaczenie tekstu piosenki
Przyszedłem tu po płukanie gardła, a nie Tae glina.,
Ty Wielka, Gruba małpo, wsadzę Ci podbródek prosto w dupę.,
Come lookin 'for your pound o' flesh, but I 've got nothin' left,
Bo Christian Brothers & Brides o'Christ chłostali mnie na śmierć.
Possij tego sukkuba, twoja gwiazda nigdy nie wzejdzie,
Ye 've the smell o' death about your breath & bullet holes for eyes,
Chciałbym być trzeźwy, w dniu, w którym stałeś się mój.,
Oh pull the piggin door behind ye, thank you for your time,
Dranie! A shower o 'pricks, the likes ye' ve never known,
Grabie ich, łamie ich, diabeł może ich zabrać, do piekła poniżej.
Oh as I set out on my way all naked and alone,
Guard my back, guide me forth & bring me safely home,
"Half a life, a decent wife, my share o 'love & trust",
And when I ' m gone, The long & restful slumber of the just.
"They' ll ride ye to the gates of Hell, drive ye to the brew" ,
'til every penny' s splashin ' off the wall against your shoe,
Ye 'll get yer feed o' spurs & a few choice feckin ' words,
Potem wraca do picks & shovels, bo tylko tyle pozwolą Ci zrobić.