Текст песни Old Ballyhoo (Loudon Wainwright III) с переводом

Mister, won’t you lend a poor dime a cripple?

I’m about a thousand dollars from my home

Ain’t got no mile in my pocket, no head to poke my hole through

And I don’t know where I’ll die when I go to

I’ve tried living in the valley and working at the mill

I like bootlegging better, running whiskey through these hills

Now I’m back down from the mountain and living on the barn

If you’ve got change for five dollars, why don’t you give me some?

Mister, won’t you lend a poor dime a cripple?

I’m about a thousand dollars from my home

Ain’t got no mile in my pocket, no head to poke my hole through

And I don’t know where I’ll die when I go to

Hey, I could play in your theater, local church or corner bar

Long as there’s fun and money, I ain’t too particular

I can sing and dance and whistle, turn cartwheels through the air

And if I get too tight to stand upright, just tie me to a chair

Mister, won’t you lend a poor dime a cripple?

I’m about a thousand dollars from my home

Ain’t got no mile in my pocket, no head to poke my hole through

And I don’t know where I’ll die when I go to

Now when this song is over, gonna pass around my hat

So won’t you reach down deep inside? Hey, quiet at the back

Did you come to talk or listen, folks? Now everybody hush

'Cause when I hit that high note, I can make a statue blush

Mister, won’t you lend a poor dime a cripple?

I’m about a thousand dollars from my home

Ain’t got no mile in my pocket, no head to poke my hole through

And I don’t know where I’ll die when I go to

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