London 1888 - Momus

London 1888 - Momus

Год
2016
Язык
`Angļu`
Длительность
270760

Zemāk ir dziesmas vārdi London 1888 , izpildītājs - Momus ar tulkojumu

Dziesmas vārdi " London 1888 "

Oriģinālteksts ar tulkojumu

London 1888

Momus

Cellophane grandfather clock

I hope your hands will never stop

Rescue me from this ugly block

In Tokyo, 21st century

It’s London, 1888

I am descended from a great

Clan of the Meiji shogunate

And I am travelling extensively

It’s London 1888

I sit here drinking nettle wine

My family is in decline

And I confess the fault is mine

The doorman’s sure to sit and wait

To see who I’ll bring home tonight

I’ll pay him cash to keep him quiet

I am a libertine

Cellophane grandfather clock

You’ve got my conscience in the dock

You’ve got me walking round the block

You’ve got me searching for experience

Cellophane grandfather clock

I am a Buddhist, I am not

Victorian, I love your shops

But your morality is meaningless

It’s London 1888

And I have learned the game of chess

I have a club, it’s on the Strand

I’m a dishonourable man

And Tokyo is far away

The English wear a poker face

The latest craze is called 'Croquet'

I am a stranger here

I am the Marquis Matsugae

And I came questioning through time

But is the grave the sole reply?

And Sherlock Holmes is my good friend

I have a trust fund I can spend

And I am ready to defend

My immorality to anyone

And Whistler painted me in grey

I had his mother round to stay

And she sat knitting in her chair

And staring through me disapprovingly

And Aubrey Beardsley sketches me

And Oscar Wilde comes round for tea

But I still feel so Japanese

When I’m alone on Piccadilly

And in Green Park there is a band

Medieval lillie in my hand

I watch the sailors on the bus

A little lustfully

I am the Marquis Matsugae

I came adventuring in time

But is the grave the sole reply?

Cellophane grandfather clock

I hear you tick while I talk

In my apartment on Pall Mall

To stable boys of easy provenance

Cellophane grandfather clock

The incense on my mantelpiece

Covers the reek of smelly socks

As I prepare them to be compromised

It’s London 1888

It’s 6 o’clock and I am late

For some disreputable date

With sordid appetites I hate

I hope these crimes will never stop

And like the hands upon the clock

My hands will touch and he’ll respond

And go beyond

It’s London 1888

I am the Marquis Matsugae

And I came questioning through time

And is the grave my sole reply?

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