Текст песни George Michael - Playing For Time
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These are the days of the open hand They will not be the last Look around now These are the days of the beggars and the choosers This is the year of the hungry man Whose place is in the past Hand in hand with ignorance And legitimate excuses The rich declare themselves poor And most of us are not sure If we have too much But we'll take our chances Because God's stopped keeping score I guess somewhere along the way He must have let us all out to play Turned his back and all Gods children Crept out the back door And it's hard to love, there's so much to hate Hanging on to hope When there is no hope to speak of And the wounded skies above Say it's much, much too late Well maybe we should all be praying for time These are the days of the empty hand Oh you hold on to what you can And charity is a coat you wear twice a year This is the year of the guilty man Your television takes a stand And you find that what was over There is over here So you scream from behind your door Say what's mine is mine and not yours I may have too much but I'll take my chances Because God's stopped keeping score And you cling to the things they sold you Did you cover your eyes when they told you That he can't come back Because he has no children to come back for It's hard to love there's so much to hate Hanging on to hope when there is no hope to speak of And the wounded skies above say It's much too late So maybe we should all be praying for time ---------------------------------------------------- Мольба Настало время щедрости в сердцах, Оно ведь так недолговечно. Взгляни вокруг - здесь кто-то господин, А кто-то милостыню просит. Ах, сколько страждующих в наши дни, Все это должно было остаться в прошлом Со всем этим невежеством, И нелепыми оправданиями. Богатые уверяют нас в своей нищите, И многие из нас задаются вопросом: "А достаточно ли мы имеем благ?" Но мы не упустим своего шанса, Ведь Господь больше за этим не следит. Наверное, когда-то давно Он как бы выпустил нас погулять во двор, Затем отвернулся на секундочку и все дети Улизнули через потайной лаз. Очень трудно любить, когда столько всего вызывает ненависть, Верить в надежду, Когда ее совсем нет. И слышать, как раненые небеса над головой твердят о том, Что уже слишком, слишком поздно. Но, быть может, время принесет утешение. Настали дни, когда за душой ни гроша, И нужно как-то жить дальше, И щедрость - это всего лишь пальто, которое мы надеваем два раза в год. Сегодня телевидение огрызается на всех людей Хоть с каким-нибудь достатком, (1) И ты понимаешь, что здесь, что там - Везде одно и то же. Мы негодуем и кричим из за двери своего дома: "Что мое - то мое! И не трожьте никто!" Возможно у меня всего достаточно, но я не остановлюсь на этом, Ведь Господь все равно не видит. И ты хочешь вцепиться в купленные вещи И закрываешь глаза в истоме, Зная, что он не придет, Ведь у него больше нет детей Очень трудно любить, когда столько всего вызывает ненависть, Верить в надежду, когда ее совсем нет. И слышать как небеса над головой твердят так больно о том, Что уже слишком, слишком поздно. Но, быть может, время принесет утешение. 1 - дословно: Это год виновного, Ваше телевидение отстаивает свою позицию Смотрите также:
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These are the days of the open hand
They will not be the last
Look around now
These are the days of the beggars and the choosers
This is the year of the hungry man
Whose place is in the past
Hand in hand with ignorance
And legitimate excuses
The rich declare themselves poor
And most of us are not sure
If we have too much
But we'll take our chances
Because God's stopped keeping score
I guess somewhere along the way
He must have let us all out to play
Turned his back and all Gods children
Crept out the back door
And it's hard to love, there's so much to hate
Hanging on to hope
When there is no hope to speak of
And the wounded skies above
Say it's much, much too late
Well maybe we should all be praying for time
These are the days of the empty hand
Oh you hold on to what you can
And charity is a coat you wear twice a year
This is the year of the guilty man
Your television takes a stand
And you find that what was over
There is over here
So you scream from behind your door
Say what's mine is mine and not yours
I may have too much but I'll take my chances
Because God's stopped keeping score
And you cling to the things they sold you
Did you cover your eyes when they told you
That he can't come back
Because he has no children to come back for
It's hard to love there's so much to hate
Hanging on to hope when there is no hope to speak of
And the wounded skies above say
It's much too late
So maybe we should all be praying for time
-------------------------------------------------- -
Plea
It is time for generosity in the hearts
It is so short-lived.
Take a look around - someone is lord,
And someone asks for alms.
Ah, how many sufferers these days,
All this was to be left in the past.
With all this ignorance
And ridiculous excuses.
The rich assure us of their poverty
And many of us are wondering:
"Do we have enough goods?"
But we will not miss our chance
After all, the Lord no longer follows this.
Probably once upon a time
He kinda let us out into the yard,
Then he turned away for a second and all the children
They escaped through a secret hole.
It’s very difficult to love when so much is hateful
Believe in hope
When she is completely gone.
And hear the wounded heaven above your head saying
Which is too much, too late.
But perhaps time will bring comfort.
The days have come when a soul is penniless
And you need to somehow live on,
And generosity is just a coat that we wear twice a year.
Today, television snarls at all people
Though with some wealth, (1)
And you understand that here, that there -
Everywhere the same thing.
We are indignant and shout from behind the door of our house:
"What is mine is mine! And do not touch anyone!"
Maybe I’ve got enough, but I won’t stop there,
After all, the Lord still does not see.
And you want to cling to purchased things
And you close your eyes in languor
Knowing that he will not come,
After all, he has no more children
It’s very difficult to love when so much is hateful
Believe in hope when it is completely gone.
And to hear the heavens overhead say so painfully
Which is too much, too late.
But perhaps time will bring comfort.
1 - verbatim: This is the year of the culprit, your television defends its position
