Текст песни Growin' Up (Bruce Springsteen) с переводом

I stood stone-like at midnight

Suspended in my masquerade

I combed my hair 'til it was just right

And commanded the night brigade

I was open to pain and crossed by the rain

And I walked on a crooked crutch

I strolled all alone through a fallout zone

And came out with my soul untouched

I hid in the clouded wrath of the crowd

But when they said, «Sit down,» I stood up

Ooh, growin' up

Well, the flag of piracy flew from my mast

And my sails were set wing to wing

I had a jukebox graduate for first mate

She couldn’t sail but she sure could sing

I pushed B-52 and bombed them with the blues

With my gear set stubborn on standing

I broke all the rules

Strafed my old high school

Never once gave thought to landing

I hid in the clouded warmth of the crowd

But when they said, «Come down,» I threw up

Ooh, growin' up

I’ve never held an honest job in my entire life. I’ve never done any hard labor.

I’ve never worked nine to five. I’ve never worked five days a week until right

now. I don’t like it. I’ve never seen the inside of a factory and yet it’s all

I’ve ever written about. Standing before you is a man who has become wildly and

absurdly successful writing about something of which he has had — absolutely no

personal experience. I made it all up. That’s how good I am. Now how,

I’m sure you’re wondering how did this great miracle come to pass?

Well, in the beginning, there was a great darkness upon the waters, as a child,

it was Christmas, your birthday, summer vacation, but the rest of life was a

lifeless sucking black hole. A lifeless sucking black hole of homework, church,

school, homework, church, school, homework, church, school, green beans,

green beans, fucking green beans. But then, then a blinding flash of

sanctified light, a human being, and just a kid, just a kid from the southern

sticks, but uh, new kind of man, he split the world in two, and suddenly,

a new world existed. The one below your belt. And above your heart.

Sunday night in 1956 at 39 and a half Institute Street into a Coldwater flat

and into the mind of a seven year old kid, the revolution had been televised!

Right under the noses of the powers that be, who if they’d have known what was

actually happening and the great changes, the changes that were about to come,

they would’ve shut this shit down, or more likely, signed it up real quick,

because we the unwatched, the invisible, the powerless, the kids,

would want more. Now more life, more love, and more sex, and more hope,

and more truth, and more power, and more soul, and most of all,

more rock 'n' roll. So I sat with my mom, my little seven year old mind on

fire, staring into a blue tube as fun happened. Fun, the real kind.

The joyful, life-affirming, hip-shaking, ass-quaking, guitar-playing,

mind and heart-changing, race-challenging, soul-lifting bliss of a freer

existence. A freer existence exploded into unsuspecting homes all across

America, on a regular Sunday night. The world had fucking changed.

In an instant. In a sweating wet orgasm of fun. And all you needed to do to

get a taste of it, was to risk being your true self. Because the rock 'n' roll

genie had been let out of the bottle and he told us that if you were born in

the U.S.A., my fellow citizens, these feelings, these freedoms, this fun,

was your birth right. I listened, I believed, and I heard a mighty call to

action. So, I studied my new hero. And I noted he’s got the same two arms,

two legs, two eyes that I got. Yes, he’s a human Adonis, and I’m —

pathetically creepy. But I’ll figure that part out, alright. The one thing he

had that I didn’t have was strapped around his waist. It was the guitar.

The guitar, or as my father had christened it, «That fucking guitar».

But that fucking guitar was the key. It was the sword in the stone,

it was the staff of righteousness, and they sell 'em at Western Auto downtown

for 25 dollars! So I begged and I pleaded with my mother just to rent me,

'cause we couldn’t afford to buy a guitar from Mike Deal’s Music School on

South Street. One Saturday afternoon, I brought it home. And I sat on the

living room couch. And I unlatched its full alligator case, and I slowly opened

it up. And up from the green velvet lining came the sweet smell of a cherrywood

cocktail of power, pleasure, salvation, and dreams and dreams and dreams.

So I took lessons, dedicatedly, I took lessons for two solid weeks, and I quit.

It was too fuckin' hard. Learning the guitar, not only was it fucking hard,

but the lessons were boring, just give me the three magic chords please!

And let me twist! And shout. But I was a seven year old kid and my hands

barely fit around the neck and I couldn’t waste my mother’s hard-earned cash

week after week so very shortly I knew, that back it was gonna have to go.

But the morning before I returned it, I strapped it on one more time.

I took it out into the backyard where the neighborhood kids were.

And I put on my first show. Woo! I slapped it. I shook it. I shouted.

I sang voodoo nonsense. I burned a hole in the grass. I shook my little seven

year old ass, woo! Most importantly, I posed with it. That’s the shit!

I danced with it, I did everything but play it. I couldn’t do that.

I sucked so bad and the kids laughed and laughed at my silly ass.

And we brought it back that afternoon. Ridin' back home, with my mom in the

car, sat in the backseat and I was quiet, was thinking, I was a little

disappointed, in myself. But somewhere inside, somewhere inside I knew that for

a moment, just a moment, in front of those kids in that backyard,

I smelled blood

I took month-long vacations in the stratosphere

You know it’s really hard to hold your breath

I swear I lost everything I ever loved or feared

I was the cosmic kid in full costume dress

My feet they finally took root in the earth

But I got me a nice little place in the stars

I swear I found the key to the universe

In the engine of an old parked car

I hid in the clouded wrath of the crowd

But when they said, «Sit down,» I stood up

Ooh, growin' up

Ooh, growin' up

And it was bye-bye New Jersey! I’m gonna be airborne!