The hosts of the show: Vladimir Ilinskiy, George Moseshvili, Jude Viktorovna, Olga Palna
Teacher (Living in the Past, 1972)
Well the dawn was coming, heard him ringing on my bell. He said, ``My name's the teacher, that is what I call myself. And I have a lesson that I must impart to you. It's an old expression but I must insist it's true.
Jump up, look around, find yourself some fun, no sense in sitting there hating everyone. No man's an island and his castle isn't home, the nest is full of nothing when the bird has flown.''
So I took a journey, threw my world into the sea. With me went the teacher who found fun instead of me.
Hey man, what's the plan, what was that you said? Sun-tanned, drink in hand, lying there in bed. I try to socialize but I can't seem to find what I was looking for, got something on my mind.
Then the teacher told me it had been a lot of fun. Thanked me for his ticket and all that I had done.
Hey man, what's the plan, what was that you said? Sun-tanned, drink in hand, lying there in bed. I try to socialize but I can't seem to find what I was looking for, got something on my mind.
Dharma For One (Living in the Past, 1972)
[Introduction:] She's really turned on by the television, and vice versa. Here's a song called, ??. Yes, right. Rearranged though, nevertheless. A new lease on life. In other words, it's just a bit louder. ``Dharma For One''.
[Lyrics:] Dharma, seek and you will find truth within your mind, Dharma.
Dharma, each to his own we say, together we'll end astray, Dharma.
Truth is like freedom, it doesn't fool me. Be true to yourself, never think that you're free. Dharma will come eventually.
[Outtroduction:] Thank you! ??
Fat Man (Stand Up, 1962)
Don't want to be a fat man, people would think that I was just good fun. Would rather be a thin man, I am so glad to go on being one. Too much to carry around with you, no chance of finding a woman who will love you in the morning and all the night time too.
Don't want to be a fat man, have not the patience to ignore all that. Hate to admit to myself half of my problems came from being fat. Won't waste my time feeling sorry for him, I seen the other side to being thin. Roll us both down a mountain and I'm sure the fat man would win.
Living in the Past (Living in the Past, 1972)
Happy and I'm smiling, walk a mile to drink your water. You know I'd love to love you, and above you there's no other. We'll go walking out while others shout of war's disaster. Oh, we won't give in, let's go living in the past.
Once I used to join in every boy and girl was my friend. Now there's revolution, but they don't know what they're fighting. Let us close out eyes; outside their lives go on much faster. Oh, we won't give in, we'll keep living in the past.
Singing All Day (Living in the Past, 1972)
Singing all day, singing `bout nothing. Singing all day, singing `bout nothing. Singing all day, singing `bout nothing, oo, my, my, my, oo, my, my, my.
Went down to the station to look for her there, looked through the crowds for a glimpse of her hair, nothing to see but the crowds keep a-staring at me, my, my, oo, my, my, my.
Down in the street, try'n' to remember, shuffling my feet outside a menswear, is that her in the fur coat? No it's not December yet, my, my, my, oo, my, my, my.
Singing all day, singing `bout nothing.
Back to the house, maybe she'll phone me, singing my song, feeling so lonely. I'll sing very softly, so if the phone rings I can hear it, I can hear it.
Singing all day, singing `bout nothing. Singing all day, singing `bout nothing. Singing all day, singing `bout nothing, oo, my, my, my, oo, my, my, my.
Wond'ring Again (Living in the Past, 1972)
There's the stillness of death on a deathly unliving sea, and the motor car magical world long since ceased to be, when the Eve-bitten apple returned to destroy the tree.
Incestuous ancestry's charabanc ride, spawning new millions throws the world on its side. Supporting their far-flung illusion, the national curse, and those with no sandwiches please get off the bus.
The excrement bubbles, the century's slime decays and the brainwashing government lackeys would have us say it's under control and we'll soon be on our way to a grand year for babies and quiz panel games of the hot hungry millions you'll be sure to remain.
The natural resources are dwindling and no one grows old, and those with no homes to go to, please dig yourself holes.
We wandered through quiet lands, felt the first breath of snow. Searched for the last pigeon, slate grey I've been told. Stumbled on a daffodil which she crushed in the rush, heard it sigh, and left it to die. At once felt remorse and were touched by the loss of our own, held its poor broken head in her hands, dropped soft tears in the snow, and it's only the taking that makes you what you are.
Wond'ring aloud will a son one day be born to share in our infancy in the child's path we've worn. In the aging seclusion of this earth that our birth did surprise we'll open his eyes. |