Представляем слова песни "Small Change (Got Rained On With His Own .38)", чтобы вы лучше узнали творчество артиста Tom Waits . Эта интерпретация слов песни, включает скрытые смыслы и эмоции, вложенные автором. Лирика «Small Change (Got Rained On With His Own .38)» — это не просто строчки, а личный прожитый опыт, который Tom Waits передаёт нам, чтобы раскрыть все грани своей личности.
Tom Waits - "Small Change (Got Rained On With His Own .38)"
Lyrics to Small Change (Got Rained On With His Own .38) : Small Change got rained on with his own thirty-eight, And nobody flinched down by the arcade And the marquees werent weeping, they went stark-raving mad, And the cabbies were the only ones that really had it made And his cold trousers were twisted, and the sirens high and shrill, And crumpled in his fist was a five-dollar bill And the naked mannequins with their Cheshire grins, And the raconteurs and roustabouts said "Buddy, come on in, cause Cause the dreams aint broken down here now, theyre walking with a limp Now that Small Change got rained on with his own thirty-eight" And nobody flinched down by the arcade And the burglar alarms been disconnected, And the newsmen start to rattle And the cops are telling jokes about some whorehouse in Seattle And the fire hydrants plead the Fifth Amendment And the furniture is bargains galore But the blood is by the jukebox on an old linoleum floor And what a hot rain on Forty-Second Street, And now the umbrellas aint got a chance And the newsboys a lunatic with stains on his pants, cause Cause Small Change got rained on with his own thirty-eight And no ones gone over to close his eyes And theres a racing form in his pocket, Circled "Blue Boots" in the third And the cashier at the clothing store didnt say a word As the siren tears the night in half, and someone lost his wallet Well, a surveillance of assailance, it thats what you want to call it And the whores hike up their skirts and fish for drug-store prophylactics With their mouths cut just like razor blades and their eyes are like stilettos And her radiators steaming and her teeth are in a wreck, and nah, She wont let you kiss her, but what the hell do you expect' And the Gypsies are tragic and if you want to buy perfume, Well, theyll bark you down like carneys, sell you Christmas cards in June, but But Small Change got rained on with his own thirty-eight And his headstones a gumball machine, No more chewing gum or baseball cards or overcoats or dreams Someones hosing down the sidewalk, and hes only in his teens, cause Cause Small Change got rained on with his own thirty-eight And a fistful of dollars cant change that, And someone copped his watch fob, and someone got his ring And the newsboy got his porkpie Stetson hat And the tuberculosis old men at the Nelson wheeze and cough And someone will head south until this whole thing cools off, cause Cause Small Change got rained on with his own thirty-eight, yeah, Small Change got rained on with his own thirty-eight [ Small Change (Got Rained On With His Own .38) Lyrics ]
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