Scissor Bill
Joe Hill| Original | Traduzione svedese 2 / Swedish translation 2 / Svensk översättning... |
| SCISSOR BILL You may ramble 'round the country anywhere you will, You'll always run across that same old Scissor Bill. He's found upon the desert, he is on the hill, He's found in every mining camp and lumber mill. He looks just like a human, he can eat and walk, But you will find he isn't, when he starts to talk. He'll say, "This is my country," with an honest face, While all the cops they chase him out of every place. Scissor Bill, he's a little dippy, Scissor Bill, he has a funny face. Scissor Bill, should drown in Mississippi, He is the missing link that Darwin tried to trace. And Scissor Bill he couldn't live without the booze, He sits around all day and spits tobacco juice. He takes a deck of cards and tries to beat the Chink! Yes, Bill would be a smart guy if he only could think. And Scissor Bill he says: "This country must be freed From Niggers, Japs and Dutchmen and the gol durn Swede." He says that every cop would be a native son If it wasn't for the Irishman, the sonna fur gun. Scissor Bill, he wouldn't join the union, Scissor Bill, he says, "Not me, by Heck!" Scissor Bill, gets his reward in Heaven, Oh! sure. He'll get it, but he'll get it in the neck. Don't try to talk your union dope to Scissor Bill, He says he never organized and never will. He always will be satisfied until he's dead, With coffee and a doughnut and a lousy old bed. And Bill, he says he gets rewarded thousand fold, When he gets up to Heaven on the streets of gold. But I don't care who knows it, and right here I'll tell, If Scissor Bill is goin' to Heaven, I'll go to Hell. Scissor Bill, the "foreigners" is cussin', Scissor Bill, he says: "I hate a Coon"; Scissor Bill, is down on everybody, The Hottentots, the bushmen and the man in the moon. | SVARTFOTS-BILL Du kan färdas här i landet när och var du vill nog fanken ska du se vår gamla Svartfots-Bill. Han ligger mitt i öknen, står på bergets topp. Och vid varje såg och gruva dyker Billy opp. Han liknar alla andra, han har själ och kropp, men när han börjar snacka är det punkt och stopp. Han snackar om sin hembygd och ser duktig ut. När snuten åker in - då åker Billy ut. Svartfots-Bill, han är nog lite pippi. Svartfots-Bill, han liknar ingen man. Svartfots-Bill, ska svälja Mississippi. Han är den lilla länken som ej Darwin fann. Försök ej snacka organisation med Bill. Han bara står och gormar att han inte vill. Han säjer han bor lycklig i sin Herres hus i lusig blus med en kardus sekunda snus. Och Bill han säjer han får tusenfalt igen när han på gyllne gator går till himmelen. Då vill jag säja till er med min själ och kropp: Går Svartfots-Bill till himlen, så tar jag ett svaveldopp. Svartfots-Bill, han gillar ej förbundet. Svartfots-Bill, han säjer blott: »Komplott!« Svartfots-Bill, han väntar himlapundet. Å jösses, han ska få det som ett litet skott! |
