Blue American
I wrote this novel just for you
It sounds pretentious but it's true
I wrote this novel just for you
That's why it's vulgar
That's why it's blue
And I say, thank you
And I say, thank you
I wrote this novel just for Mom
For all the mommy things she's done
For all the times she showed me wrong
For all the time she sang god's song
And I say thank you Mom
Hello Mom
Thank you Mom
Hi Mom
I read a book about Uncle Tom
Where a whitey bastard made a bomb
But now Ebonics rule our song
Those motherfuckers got it wrong
And I ask
Who is uncle Tom?
Who is uncle Tom?
Who is uncle Tom?
You are
I read a book about the self
Said I should get expensive help
Go fix my head
Create some wealth
Put my neurosis on the shelf
But I don't care for myself
I don't care for myself
I don't care for myself
I don't care
I wrote this novel just for you
I'm so pretentious, yes it's true
I wrote this novel just for you
Just for you
Just for you
Blue American (Печальный американец)
Я написал этот роман специально для тебя
Это звучит претенциозно
Но это правда
Я написал этот роман специально для тебя
Вот почему он вульгарен
Вот почему он печален
И я скажу:
Спасибо тебе
И я скажу:
Спасибо тебе
Я написал этот роман специально для мамы
За всю ее материнскую заботу
За все те случаи, когда она наставляла меня на путь истинный
За все те псалмы, что она распевала
И я скажу:
Спасибо тебе, мама
Здравствуй, мама
Спасибо тебе, мама
Привет, мам
Я читал книгу про дядю Тома1
Где белый ублюдок творил беспредел
Но теперь запевают чернокожие
Те ублюдки заблуждались
И я спрашиваю:
Кто такой дядя Том?
Кто такой дядя Том?
Кто такой дядя Том?
Это - ты
Я читал книгу о самом себе
Где говорилось, что мне требуется дорогостоящая помощь
Вправить мне мозги
Создать немного благополучия
Положить мой невроз на полку
Но плевал я на себя
Мне наплевать на себя
Мне наплевать на себя
Мне это безразлично
Я написал этот роман специально для тебя
Я так претенциозен
Да, это правда
Я написал этот роман специально для тебя
Именно для тебя
Именно для тебя
Blue American
I wrote this novel just for you
It sounds pretentious but it's true
I wrote this novel just for you
That's why it's vulgar
That's why it's blue
And I say, thank you
And I say, thank you
I wrote this novel just for Mom
For all the mommy things she's done
For all the times she showed me wrong
For all the time she sang god's song
And I say thank you Mom
Hello Mom
Thank you Mom
Hi Mom
I read a book about Uncle Tom
Where a whitey bastard made a bomb
But now Ebonics rule our song
Those motherfuckers got it wrong
And I ask
Who is uncle Tom?
Who is uncle Tom?
Who is uncle Tom?
You are
I read a book about the self
Said I should get expensive help
Go fix my head
Create some wealth
Put my neurosis on the shelf
But I do not care for myself
I do not care for myself
I do not care for myself
I do not care
I wrote this novel just for you
I'm so pretentious, yes it's true
I wrote this novel just for you
Just for you
Just for you
Blue American (Sad American)
I wrote this novel just for you
It sounds pretentious
But it's true
I wrote this novel just for you
That's why he is vulgar
That's why he is sad
And I say:
thank you
And I say:
thank you
I wrote this novel, especially for moms
For all her maternal care
In all the cases in which she guided me on the right path
In all the psalms that she sang
And I say:
Thank you, Mom
Hello mother
Thank you, Mom
Hi, Mom
I read a book about Uncle Toma1
Where white bastard wreak havoc
But now sings blacks
Those bastards were wrong
And I ask:
Who is uncle Tom?
Who is uncle Tom?
Who is uncle Tom?
It's you
I read a book about himself
Which says that I need expensive care
Have the right to my brain
Create a bit of well-being
Put my neurosis on the shelf
But I spit on
I do not care for themselves
I do not care for themselves
I do not care
I wrote this novel just for you
I was so pretentious
Yes it's true
I wrote this novel just for you
That's for you
That's for you
