Текст песни Talking Columbia Blues (Jack Elliott) с переводом

I was down 'long the river, just setting on a rock

Looking at the boats in Bonneville Lock

And the gate swings open and the boat sails in

Toots her whistle, she’s gone a gin'!

Well, I fills up my hat brim, drunk a sweet taste

Thought about the river going to waste

Thought about the dust, thought 'bout the sand

Thought about the people, thought 'bout the land

Ever’body running round all over creation

Just looking for some kind of a little place

Pulled out my pencil, scribbled this song

I figured all these salmon fishers can’t be wrong

Them salmon fish, they’re mighty shrewd

They got senators, politicians, too!

Just like a President, they run ever' four years

Yes, them folks back east are doing a lot of talking

Some of them baulking and some of them squawking

But with all their fingering and all their books

Well, they just didn’t know them raw Chinooks

Salmon! That’s a good river!

Just watch this river and pretty soon

Ever’body’s going to be changing their tune

The big Grand Coulee and Bonneville Dam

Run a thousand factories for Uncle Sam

An' ever’body else in the world

Making ever’thing from sewing machines to fertilizer

Atomic bedrooms… Plastic!

Everything’s going to be made out of plastic!

Yes, Uncle Sam needs wool, Uncle Sam needs wheat

Uncle Sam needs houses and stuff to eat

Uncle Sam needs water and power dams

Uncle Sam needs people and people needs land

Don’t like dictators not much, myself

But I think the whole country ought to be run

By electricity!

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