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Текст (слова) песни: The Supremes - Don`t Rain On My Parade



(Jule Styne/Bob Merrill)
Don`t tell me not to live, just sit and putter,
Life`s candy and the sun`s a ball of butter.
Don`t bring around a cloud to rain on my parade.

Don`t tell me not to fly-- I`ve simply got to.
If someone takes a spill, it`s me and not you.
Who told you you`re allowed to rain on my parade!

I`ll march my band out, I`ll beat my drum,
And if I`m fanned out, Your turn at bat, sir.
At least I didn`t fake it.
Hat, sir, I guess I didn`t make it!

But whether I`m the rose of sheer perfection,
Or freckle on the nose of life`s complexion,
The cinder or the shiny apple of its eye,
I gotta fly once, I gotta try once,
Only can die once, right, sir?

Ooh, love is juicy, juicy, and you see
I gotta have my bite, sir!
Get ready for me, love, `cause I`m a "comer"
I simply gotta march, my heart`s a drummer.
Don`t bring around a cloud to rain on my parade!

I`m gonna live and live now,
Get what I want--I know how,
One roll for the whole shebang,
One throw, that bell will go clang,
Eye on the target--and wham--
One shot, one gun shot, and bam--
Hey, Mister, here I am!

I`ll march my band out, I will beat my drum,
And if I`m fanned out, your turn at bat, sir,
At least I didn`t fake it.
Hat, sir, I guess I didn`t make it.

Get ready for me, love, `cause I`m a "comer"
I simply gotta march, my heart`s a drummer.
Nobody, no, nobody
Is gonna rain on my parade!

 

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