Tom Traubert's Blues (Four Sheets To The Wind In Copenhagen) - Tom Waits

Tom Traubert's Blues (Four Sheets To The Wind In Copenhagen) - Tom Waits

  • Year of release: 2001
  • Language: English
  • Duration: 6:39

Below is the lyrics of the song Tom Traubert's Blues (Four Sheets To The Wind In Copenhagen) , artist - Tom Waits with translation

Lyrics " Tom Traubert's Blues (Four Sheets To The Wind In Copenhagen) "

Original text with translation

Tom Traubert's Blues (Four Sheets To The Wind In Copenhagen)

Tom Waits

Wasted and wounded, it ain’t what the moon did

I’ve got what I paid for now

See ya tomorrow, hey Frank, can I borrow

A couple of bucks from you?

To go Waltzing Mathilda, Waltzing Mathilda

You’ll go Waltzing Mathilda with me

I’m an innocent victim of a blinded alley

And I’m tired of all these soldiers here

No one speaks English, and every thing’s broken

And my Stacys are soaking wet

To go Waltzing Mathilda, Waltzing Mathilda

You’ll go Waltzing Mathilda with me

Now the dogs are barking and the taxi cab’s parking

A lot they can do for me

I begged you to stab me, you tore my shirt open

And I’m down on my knees tonight

Old Bushmills I staggered, you buried the dagger in

Your silhouette window light

To go Waltzing Mathilda, Waltzing Mathilda

You’ll go Waltzing Mathilda with me

Now I lost my Saint Christopher now that I’ve kissed her

And the one-armed bandit knows

And the Maverick Chinamen, and the cold-blooded signs

And the girls down by the strip-tease shows go

Waltzing Mathilda, Waltzing Mathilda

You’ll go Waltzing Mathilda with me

No, I don’t want your sympathy, the fugitives say

That the streets aren’t for dreaming now

Manslaughter dragnets and the ghosts that sell memories

They want a piece of the action anyhow go

Waltzing Mathilda, Waltzing Mathilda

You’ll go Waltzing Mathilda with me

And you can ask any sailor, and the keys from the jailer

And the old men in wheelchairs know

That Mathilda’s the defendant, she killed about a hundred

And she follows wherever you may go

Waltzing Mathilda, Waltzing Mathilda

You’ll go Waltzing Mathilda with me

And it’s a battered old suitcase to a hotel someplace

And a wound that will never heal

No Prima Donna, the perfume is on

An old shirt that is stained with blood and whiskey

And goodnight to the street sweepers

The night watchman flame keepers and goodnight to Mathilda too

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