Текст песни Nun's Priest (Baba Brinkman) с переводом

Once upon a time

There was a farmer who died

And left a widow

With a farmyard filled with animals

And this is the story

Of their time

Okay, listen close, I’ll tell you how the story goes

This one starts on a farm, with a poor widow

Animal husbandry was how she won the meat

That she put on the table for her young ones to eat

With no man to bring home the bacon, or take a load off

Her shoulder blades and carry weight when her bones were achin'

She was alone, with her daughters and her dairy cows

Seven cluckin' chickens and a rooster who was very proud

His name was Chauntecleer, but let’s call him Chauncy

He walked with a strut, and his style was kinda cocky

Like Snoop Doggy Dogg, except he was a cock though

A literal cock, with a bright red cox-comb

A figurative cock too, he did what cocks do

And so would you, with seven chickens to give cock to

So don’t be player hatin' on the roosters or the rap stars

All they do is crow and pimp the chickens in the backyard

And chickens only come once the method is perfected

‘Cause they want to hatch chicks with skills and work ethic

So Chauncy was up to crow at five every mornin'

Cock-a-doodle-doo! He had more wives than a Mormon

But one was his favorite, and she was his main chick

Pertelote, Purdy for short, the most curvaceous

Bootylicious chicken with the juiciest breasts and thighs

Whenever she swished her hips by, he was hypnotized

Yeah, the mischievous type, plus kind and generous

Wicked sense of humor with a rare high intelligence

And he was into it, plus his singin' talents

Kinda ruffled up her feathers, which kept things in balance

So he was all for her, and she was all for him

Though he still did his duty with his other six hens

And that’s where the story begins, in the chicken coop

Every night after dark they would all sit and roost

And one night, with Purdy next to him on his perch

Chauncy started moanin' and groanin' and waking up his birds

Like «No… no… keep it away

I’m afraid… I don’t wanna get eaten today!»

And Purdy shook him and he woke up fast and screamed

Like «Buck-uck!» And she said «Relax, it’s just a bad dream»

And Chauncy said «I love you, Purdy, you’re the perfect chick

But this was more than just a dream, please, interpret it!

Okay, listen, I was walkin' in the yard

And I saw this beast; it was kinda like a dog

But smaller, reddish brown, with a pointy snout

And bushy tail; that’s what I was moaning about

It was staring right at me, and its eyes were beady

And I just had this feeling like it was trying to eat me!»

And Purdy said «Yeah, um, that’s called a fox

And it’s kinda common knowledge that foxes eat cocks

And you want me to interpret your dream? What does it mean?

It means you’re acting like a pussy if you ask me

C’mon, grow a pair, it’s just us, there’s no one here

And it’s tough to stay in love with a wuss who’s always scared

Look, there’s nothing to fear from nightmares, the monsters

Are a manifestation of your subconscious; it’s nonsense

Now stop this… Wait, maybe your vision is true

It reveals something deep: the inner bitch in you

It’s probably just some undigested snacks in your abdomen

So get off your ass and take a laxative.»

Chauncy wasn’t mad at his chick, he just sighed

And said: «Honey, dreams are how we see with our third eye

Most religions and ancient traditions treat them as premonitions

Inner visions, we need to listen to our intuitions

I just wish you knew what it meant, ‘cause I don’t

Dreams have meaning in Greek myths, and in the Bible

Joseph even dreamed the future of Pharoah’s people

Why do you think they call it ‘The Technicolor Dreamcoat'?

And she looked kinda sly as she rolled her eyes

And said «Too bad the gods always give such vague signs

Instead of specific information… Anyhoo

You’d better watch out for foxes, babe, like chickens do»

And he cocked his head sideways, and that was that

Chauncy forgot about his dream and got his swagger back

And said «I'm just happy when I’m beside you

Except, this perch is too narrow for me to ride you

So let’s take this outside, boo. Cock-a-doodle-doo!

And his song kinda put her in the mood too

And they flew into the yard to warm in the morning sun

And he feathered her forty times before he was done

And a few months later, what do you know

Russel the fox crept into the yard slow

He’d been watching the chickens for weeks, biding his time

And now he hid in the weeds until they were right beside him

A grinning assassin in the grass, his teeth flashin'

With murder on his mind, both a hunger and a passion

He could feel need to kill, some call it evil

But ask yourself, does a fox have free will?

Could he choose to just be gone, if he wanted

To prove the dream wrong, and find some greens to feed on?

Or was the fox compelled by his physical make-up

By his nature, to chase the chickens and try to taste one?

Who knows what goes on under a fox’s fur?

Epistemology is best left to philosophers

I’ll just tell you about this fox, now he was a gentleman

Chauntecleer caught a glimpse of him, and felt adrenaline

Rushin', but before he could run Russel hushed him

And said «Hey, relax, I’m your friend. I can be trusted

I only came here for one thing, and it’s not chicken dumplings

I want to hear a performance from someone who loves to sing

I heard your father sing once, mmh, what a voice!

You could almost smell the scent of the hens becoming moist

He sang on tip-toes, with his eyes closed

And his neck stretched out, like Battery Farm Idol

And he always left the audience in awe when he was done

So I gotta know, are you your father’s son?»

Chauntecleer was all ears, all his fears

Were gone, this was all he ever wanted to hear

He felt like his father was near, and he would do him proud

He closed his eyes and he stretched his neck out

And sang: «Cock-a-doodle-ackkk!

Aa-a-aaack!»

The fox had grabbed him by the neck and started runnin' fast

He twisted his head and threw the rooster’s body on his back

The chickens stared cluckin', and Purdy was the loudest of ‘em

Screaming «Fox! Fox! Someone come and help my husband!

Buck-buck-buck-buckuck!» The sound of a bunch of hens

Brought the widow runnin' so fast that she jumped the fence

Her daughters came after, and the neighbors with their dogs too

Barkin' and yappin' - half the village was in hot pursuit

But the fox was faster, and he had a massive head start

Chauntecleer was terrified, but he tried to think smart

He said, «Aack, you’ve done it, we’re almost at the woods now

They’ll never catch us, and you still have time for put downs

You can turn around and stick your tongue out and mock them

And say ‘Ha ha, I’ve got your cock' and trash talk them!»

And the fox smiled and curled his black lips back

And turned around and opened his mouth to do just that

And when as his jaws unlocked, Chauncy took his only chance

And flew into a tree, and perched on the lowest branch

And Russel the fox looked up with his mouth open

And his voice was soft-spoken, when he said «I was jokin'

When I took you by the throat and brought you into the woods

I wasn’t tryin' to hurt you; my intentions were good!

Come down and I can explain everything!»

And Chauntecleer laughed, like, «Why, you wanna get me to sing?

Here: Cock-a-doodle-do! Here come the villagers!»

And the fox ran off with a bitter curse

And they brought the cock back to the farm, back to his duties

Crowin' at the break of dawn, and gettin' up in chickens booties

And debating metaphysics with his lady when they wake up

And that’s how the story ends — peace to Aesop

Now let this be a lesson you can have to keep

Don’t let them gas you, and never listen to flattery

Yeah let this be a lesson you can have to keep

Get your pride in check, and never listen to flattery

Never listen to flattery

Whatever kind of person you are

Whether you’re fox-like

Like a record label A & R

Or whether you’re chicken-like

You know, struttin' around, peckin' the ground

Or whether you’re rooster-like

With your chest out proud

It’s all the same to me

Just keep your wits about you

And never listen to flattery