Текст песни The Battle Of Epping Forest (Genesis) с переводом

Along the Forest Road, there’s hundreds of cars — luxury cars

Each has got its load of convertible bars, cutlery cars — superscars!

For today is the day when they sort it out, sort it out

'Cause they disagree on a gangland boundary

They disagree on a gangland boundary

There’s Willy Wright and his boys —

One helluva noise, that’s Billy’s boys!

With fully-fashioned bugs, that’s Little John’s thugs

The Barking Slugs — supersmugs!

For today is the day when they sort it out, sort it out

Yes, these Christian soldiers fight to protect the poor

East end heroes got to score in…

The Battle of Epping Forest

Yes it’s the Battle of Epping Forest

Right outside your door

And you ain’t seen nothing like it

No, you ain’t seen nothing like it

Not since the Civil War

Coming over the hill are the boys of Bill

And Johnny’s lads stand very still

With the thumpire’s shout, they all start to clout

— There's no guns in this gentleman’s bout

Georgie moves in on the outside left

With a chain flying 'round his head;

And Harold Demure, from Art Literature

Nips up the nearest tree

(Here come the cavalry!)

Amidst the battle roar

Accountants keep the score: 10−4

They’ve never been alone, after getting a radiophone

The bluebells are ringing for Sweetmeal Sam, real ham

Handing out bread and jam just like any picnic

Picnic — Picnic — Picnic

It’s 5 to 4 on William Wright; he made his pile on Derby night

When Billy was a kid, walking the streets

The other kids hid — so they did!

And now, after working hard in security trade, he’s got it made

The shops that need aid are those that haven’t paid

«I'll do my double-show quick!»

Said Mick the Prick, fresh out the nick

«I sell cheap holiday. The minute they leave

And a visit I pay — does it pay!»

And his friend, Liquid Len by name

Of Wine, Women and Wandsworth fame

Said «I'm breaking the legs of the bastard that got me framed!

I’m breaking the legs of the bastard that got me framed!»

Got me framed

They called me the Reverend when I entered the Church unstained

My employers have changed but the name has remained

It all began when I went on a tour

Hoping to find some furniture

Followed a sign saying «Beautiful Chest»

It led to a lady who showed me her best

She was taken by surprise when I quickly closed my eyes

So she rang the bell and quick as hell

Bob the Nob came out on his job

To see what the trouble was

«Louise, is the Reverend hard to please?»

«You're telling me!»

«Perhaps, sir, if it’s not too late

We could interest you in our old-fashioned Staffordshire plate?»

«Oh no, not me, I’m a man of repute.»

But the Devil caught hold of my soul and a voice called out «Shoot!»

To save my steeple, I visited people;

For this I’d gone when I met Little John

His name came, I understood

When the judge said «You are a robbing hood.»

He told me of his strange foundation

Conceived in sight of the Woodstock nation

He’d had to hide his reputation

When poor, 'twas salvation from door to door

But now, with a pin-up guru every week

It was Love, Peace & Truth Incorporated for all who seek

He employed me as a karma-ma-mechanic, with overall charms

His hands were then fit to receive, receive alms

That’s why we’re in the Battle of Epping Forest

Yes it’s the Battle of Epping Forest

Right outside your door

We guard your souls for peanuts

And we guard your shops and houses

For just a little more, just a little more

In with a left hook is the Bethnal Green Butcher

But he’s countered on the right by Mick’s chain-gang fight

And Liquid Len with his smashed bottle men

Is lobbing Bob the Nob across the gob

With his kisser in a mess, Bob seems under stress

But Jones the Jug hits Len right in the mug;

And Harold Demure, who’s still not quite sure

Fires acorns from out of his sling

(Here come the cavalry!)

Up, up above the crowd

Inside their Silver Cloud, done proud

The bold and brazen brass, seen darkly through the glass

The butler’s got jam on his Rolls; Roy doles out the lot

With tea from a silver pot just like any picnic

Picnic — Picnic — Picnic

Along the Forest Road, it’s the end of the day

And the Clouds roll away

Each has got its load — they’ll come out for the count

At the break-in of day

When the limos return for their final review, it’s all thru

— all they can see is the morning goo

«There's no-one left alive — must be a draw.»

So the Blackcap Barons toss a coin to settle the score

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