Bonnie and Clyde

ceva mai mult decat Beyonce si JayZ


by Bonnie Parker


You’ve read the story of Jesse James /  Of how he lived and died; / If you’re still in need /Of something to read, / Here’s the story of Bonnie and Clyde.

Now Bonnie and Clyde are the Barrow gang / I’m sure you all have read / How they rob and steal / And those who squeal / Are usually found dying or dead.

There’s lots of untruths to these write-ups; / They’re not so ruthless as that; / Their nature is raw; / They hate all the law / The stool pigeons, spotters, and rats.

They call them cold-blooded killers; / They say they are heartless and mean; / But I say this with pride, / That I once knew Clyde / When he was honest and upright and clean.

But the laws fooled around, / Kept taking him down / And locking him up in a cell, / Till he said to me,”I’ll never be free, / So I’ll meet a few of them in hell.”

The road was so dimly lighted; / There were no highway signs to guide; / But they made up their minds / If all roads were blind, / They wouldn’t give up till they died.

The road gets dimmer and dimmer; / Sometimes you can hardly see; / But it’s fight, man to man, / And do all you can, / For they know they can never be free.

From heart-break some people have suffered; / From weariness some people have died; / But take it all in all, / Our troubles are small / Till we get like Bonnie and Clyde.

“Deziluziile iubirii au ranit multe inimi / Oboseala a omorat cativa oameni, / Problemele acestea par insa neinsemnate / Dupa ce descoperi viata lui Bonnie si Clyde”

If a policeman is killed in Dallas, / And they have no clue or guide; / If they can’t find a fiend, / They just wipe their slate clean /And hand it on Bonnie and Clyde.

There’s two crimes committed in America / Not accredited to the Barrow mob; / They had no hand / In the kidnap demand, /Nor the Kansas City depot job.

A newsboy once said to his buddy; / „I wish old Clyde would get jumped; / In these awful hard times / We’d make a few dimes / If five or six cops would get bumped.”

The police haven’t got the report yet, / But Clyde called me up today; / He said, „Don’t start any fights / We aren’t working nights / We’re joining the NRA.”

From Irving to West Dallas viaduct / Is known as the Great Divide, / Where the women are kin, / And the men are men, / And they won’t „stool” on Bonnie and Clyde.

If they try to act like citizens / And rent them a nice little flat, / About the third night / They’re invited to fight / By a sub-gun’s rat-tat-tat.

They don’t think they’re too tough or desperate, / They know that the law always wins; / They’ve been shot at before, / But they do not ignore / That death is the wages of sin.

Some day they’ll go down together; / And they’ll bury them side by side; / To few it’ll be grief / To the law a relief / But it’s death for Bonnie and Clyde.

“Intr-o buna zi vor muri impreuna / Vor fi ingropati unul langa celalalt / Pentru putini va fi o durere / Iar pentru lege va fi o sarbatoare / Dar pentru Bonnie si Clyde va fi numai moarte.”


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