Vertaling: Herman van Veen. De Koekoek In De Klok.
It's cold and it's Smooth and it's A hard shade of white And everybody needs to lick the surface clean But it never tastes better white blooms to white
It's cold and it's Smooth and it's A hard shade of white And everybody needs to lick the surface clean But it never tastes better White blooms to white
CHORUS When you hear them cuckoos hollerin' When you hear them cuckoos hollerin' When you hear them cuckoos hollerin' Sign of rain, buddy, it'ss a sign
Glad to see you, I had a funny dream And you were wearing funny shoes, you were going to a dance You were dressed like a punk but you are too young to
You stand like a rock, on top of the mountain Run like a river, fall like a fountain The grass still is growing, the wind still is blowing, about you
How I lost my boy How I lost my boy How I lost my boy How I lost my boy The king in I died He kept floating past my eyes And singing his songs Life was
1. Auf einem Baum ein Kuckuck sim-sa-la-dim bam-ba sa-la-du sa-la-dim auf einem Baum ein Kuckuck saß. 2. Da kam ein junger Jäqer ... da
My triggers is stupid, you thugs is funny My guns be, goin', eh, for the love of money Dumb, fabulous rhymer give you luger lasagna Hula hoop, hold you
La-la-la-la-la-la La-la-la-la-la-la La-la-la-la-la-la I saw you there I stopped and stared The curly girlie smiled You really were too close to her And
I was never just an ordinary girl Who underwent a transformation I always thought that I could see the stars And watch them grow in my hands But my mind
Oh, cuckoo, she's a pretty bird She wobbles when she flies She don't ever holler, Cuckoo Till the fourth day of July Jack o' diamonds, Jack o' diamonds
We knew it must have been late (Tick-tock (Tick-tock) We had no time to wait (Tick-tock (Tick-tock) I went to light the fireplace (Tick-tock) (Tick-tock
She's got a look on her puss Like she was weaned on a pickle Hands on the handles of her motorcycle In the nest of the cuckoo bird In the nest of the
[instrumental]
Inside a clock, we find, to our surprise, a little toy singer. Assuring us that he is not a figment of our imagination, he boasts of his ability to prophesy
[Royce Da 5'9":] My triggers is stupid, you thugs is funny My guns be, goin "eh" for the love of money Dumb, fabulous rhymer give you luger lasagna Hula
Cheri coucou c'est moi Est-ce que tu dors deja? Es-tu la? Je t'en prie repond-moi! Tu sais, j'ai fait une chouette promenade. Cheri, enfin te voila! Non