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Lyrics » Letter : C » Artist : Charles Aznavour » Some People Lyrics

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Some People by Charles Aznavourالقصائد الغناءيه -текстове на песни -texty -paroles -στίχοι -गीतletras -songteksten -тексты песен -versuri -tekst utworu -testi -the text of the song - - نص الاغنيةтекста на песента -tekst pjesme -text písně -teksten til sangen -teksti, laulu -le texte de la chanson -το κείμενο του τραγουδιού -पाठ के गीतEl texto de la canción -de tekst van het lied -der Text des Liedes -teksten til sangen -o texto da canção -Текст песни -textul de la piesa -Texten till låten -il testo della canzone

Some People by Charles Aznavour

     

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Some people can get a thrill, knitting sweaters and sitting still
That's OK for some people don't know they're alive
Some people can thrive and bloom, living life in a living room
That's perfect for some people of one hundred and five
But I, at least gotta try

When I think of all the sights that I gotta see
And all the places I gotta play, All the things that I gotta be at
Come on papa, what'd ya say?

Some people can be content, playin' bingo and payin' rent
That's livin' for some people, for some hum-drum people, too be
But some people, ain't me

I had a dream, a wonderful dream, papa
All about June in the Orpheum circuit
Give me a chance, I know I can work it, Uhh, what a dream
And it was just as real as could be, papa
Well just listen to me, there I was in Mr Orpheum's office
And he was sayin' to me, Rose!
Get yourself some new orchestrations, new routines and red velvet curtains
Get a feathered hat for the baby, photographed in front of the theater
Get an agent and in jig time, you'll be being booked in the big time

Oh what a dream, a wonderful dream, papa
And all that I need is eighty-eight bucks, Papa, that's it
That's what he said papa, only eighty-eight bucks, papa

It's uh, yeah, but it's only eighty-eight bucks
It's not like I'm askin' for a second mortgage on this place
What do ya gettin' so crick, why you gettin' crazy, it's eighty-eight lousy bucks
What do you mean I ain't gettin' eighty-eight cents out of you
Well, I'll get it, and I'll get my kids, out, now

Goodbye, to blueberry pies, good ridance to all the socials I had to go to
All the lodges that I had to play, all the shriners I said hell

Writer : SONDHEIM, STEPHEN / STYNE, JULE
Copyright : Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.

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