Песенка викингов
текстIt was the summer of 793
When we sailed across the Great North Sea
Comets crossed the skies that night
Must have known something wasn't right
We arrived upon your English shore
And you offered friendship
But we wanted more
Yeah, so much more!
We're tearing up this place tonight
Literally!
We're gonna set this sleepy town alight
Literally!
We'll kill and steal and burn and drink
'Cause us vikings don't care what you think
Woah oh oh!
Let me in, won't you please
We're here to raid your monasteries
We're primed and ready to attack
And we love how monks just don't fight back
You'll die or become a slave to me
Though our slaves often get chucked up in the sea
If the boat's heavy! Yeah, yeah!
You're gonna lose your head, my friend
Literally!
We're gonna getcha in the end
Literally!
And I'll drink a toast from your skull
'Cause we're vikings and that's how we roll!
(Play that axe, Ragnor! )
We're gonna paint the whole town red
Literally!
With the blood of the dead
Literally!
We'll take everything that you own
And get back on our ship, and go back home
Woah, oh oh!
We're going home
Woah, oh oh!
We're going home
Woah, oh oh!
We are going home
Woah, oh oh!
We are going home
Woah, oh oh!
Боги, почему я раньше этого не видел? Они чудесны
Песенка про чуму ещё забавная.____
UPD: Нет, правда, где это шоу было всю мою жизнь? Оно чудесно
На рутрекере с переводом только пара эпизодов, а со слуха я понимаю примерно треть из того, что они говорят, но всё равно шикарно. Ну, местами противно, ибо всё-таки история, но шикарно. И познавательно, разумеется! Я например почти ничего не знаю о георгиевской эпохе.
Господь, помоги мне остановиться на этом ролике и не устроить видео-спам. Я слабый человек, мне нужно немного мужества...А в этом видео нас пытались убедить, что реальный Дик Тёрпин был скотиной и ни разу не романтическим героем. Судя по комментариям на ютубе - не получилось.
Мальчик хорош просто до неприличия
текстEveryone thinks they know the story
Of Dick Turpin's highway glory
But my past is far more gory
I was no saint
You think life is one big antic
My profession is romantic
Hate to be pedantic
But it ain't
As a butcher down in Essex
I was handy with a knife
Had a sideline as a poacher
Led a less than honest life
The notorious gang of Gregory
Liked my style and dedication
They signed me up and gave me
A real robber's education
We rampaged through the Essex farms
We stole and robbed and fought
But when the law came for us
I escaped and they got caught
I became a highwayman
Was daylight robbery
I was no prince charming
Nothing dandy about me
The truth is, I was violent
And with my good mate, Matt King
Robbed travellers at gunpoint
Money, watches, anything!
My horse it wasn't called Black Bess
Although that's what you've read
Was no romantic hero
Shot not one but two men dead
The legend that surrounds me
Misses out the crucial part
I was a ruthless killer
With a ruthless killer's heart
Was a vicious highwayman
A source of pain and tears
When you hear how my story ends
You won't believe your ears
I ran away to Yorkshire
Changed my name to John Palmer
Was sent to prison
After stealing chickens from a farmer
Wrote a letter to my family
A plea it did relate
The postman saw the envelope
And here's the twist of fate
He had taught me how to write
So he knew I'd lied
'That's not John Palmer's hand
That's Dick Turpin's! ' he cried!
Was a vicious highwayman
My crimes had brought me fame
Was stitched up by a postie
That's not glamourous... that's lame!
No more stand and deliver
You'll remember this, I hope
It's no fun hanging with highwaymen
When you're... hanging from a rope!