Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Travel Agent , by - Monty Python. Song from the album The Ultimate Monty Python Rip Off, in the genre СаундтрекиRelease date: 31.12.1993
Record label: Virgin
Song language: English
Travel Agent |
| Paroles de la chanson Travel Agent: |
| Announcer: And now, here is a magnificent recording |
| Made in the Wide Valley, of an ordinary travel agents |
| Office. |
| Note the huge-breasted typist in the |
| Background |
| Smoketoomuch: Good morning |
| Secretary: Oh, good morning. |
| (sexily) Uhm, do you want |
| To come upstairs? |
| Smoketoomuch: Beg your pardon? |
| Secretary: (sexily) Do you want to come upstairs? |
| (brightly) Oh, or have you come to arrange a holiday? |
| Smoketoomuch: Uuh. |
| to…to arrange a holiday |
| Secretary: Oh, sorry |
| Smoketoomuch: What’s all this about coming upstairs? |
| Secretary: Oh, nothing, nothing. |
| Now, where were you |
| Thinking of going? |
| Smoketoomuch: India |
| Secretary: Ah, one of our adventure holidays |
| Smoketoomuch: Yes |
| Secretary: Well, you’d better see Mr. Bounder about |
| That. |
| Uh, Mr. Bounder, this gentleman is interested in |
| The «India Overland» |
| Bounder: Morning, I’m Bounder of Adventure |
| Smoketoomuch: Hello, I’m Smoketoomuch |
| Bounder: Well, you’d better cut down a little then |
| Smoketoomuch: I’m sorry? |
| Bounder: You’d better cut down a little then |
| Smoketoomuch: Oh, I see! |
| Smoke too much so I’d better |
| Cut down a little then! |
| Bounder: Yes, ha ha… I expect you get people making |
| Jokes about your name all the time, eh? |
| Smoketoomuch: No, I never noticed it before |
| Bounder: So, you are interested in one of our adventure |
| Holidays, are you? |
| Smoketoomuch: Yes, I saw your advert in the bolour |
| Supplement |
| Bounder: The what? |
| Smoketoomuch: The bolour supplement |
| Bounder: The colour supplement |
| Smoketoomuch: Yes, I’m sorry, I can’t say the letter |
| Bounder: C? |
| Smoketoomuch: Yes, that’s right. |
| It’s all due to a |
| Trauma I suffered when I was a sboolboy. |
| I was attacked |
| By a bat |
| Bounder: A cat? |
| Smoketoomuch: No, a bat |
| Bounder: Oh… can you say the letter 'K'? |
| Smoketoomuch: Oh, yes. |
| Khaki, kind, kettle, Kipling |
| Kipper, Kuwait, Keble Bollege Oxford |
| Bounder: Yes, yes but why don’t you use the letter 'K' |
| Instead of the letter 'C'? |
| Smoketoomuch: What, spell bolour with a 'K'? |
| Bounder: Yes! |
| Smoketoomuch: Kolour! |
| Oh, thank you! |
| I never thought of that. |
| What a silly |
| Bunt |
| Bounder: Anyway, about the holiday… |
| Smoketoomuch: Well, yes, I’ve been on package tours |
| Many times, so your advert really bought my eye |
| Bounder: Ah good |
| Smoketoomuch: Yes, you’re quite right, I’m fed up with |
| Being treated like a sheep, I mean what’s the point of |
| Going abroad if you’re just another tourist carted |
| Round in buses, surrounded by sweaty, mindless oafs |
| From Kettering and Boventry… |
| Bounder: Absolutel. |
| Smoketoomuch: …in their cloth caps and their |
| Cardigans and their transistor radios and their 'Sunday |
| Mirrors', complaining about the tea, 'Oh they don’t |
| Make it properly here do they not like at home' |
| Stopping at Majorcan bodegas, selling fish and chips |
| And Watney’s Red Barrel and calamares and two veg… |
| Bounder: Yes |
| Smoketoomuch: …and sitting in their cotton sun frocks |
| Squirting Timothy White’s suncream all over their puffy |
| Raw swollen purulent flesh… |
| Bounder: Yes |
| Smoketoomuch: …cos they 'overdid it on the first |
| Day'! |
| And being herded into endless Hotel Miramars and |
| Bellevueses and Bontinentals… |
| Bounder: Yes, yes… |
| Smoketoomuch: …with their modern international luxury |
| Roomettes and draft Red Barrel and swimmingpools… |
| Bounder: Yes |
| Smoketoomuch: …full of fat German businessmen |
| Pretending they’re acrobats, forming pyramids and |
| Frightening the children and barging in the queues and |
| If you’re not at your table spot on seven you miss the |
| Bowl of Campbell’s Cream of Mushroom soup,… |
| Bounder: Shut up |
| Smoketoomuch: …the first item on the menu of |
| International Cuisine,… |
| Bounder: Shut up, please! |
| Smoketoomuch: …and every Thursday night the hotel is |
| A bloody cabaret in the bar featuring a tiny emaciated |
| Dago… |
| Bounder: Please, will you shut up |
| Smoketoomuch: …with nine-inch hips and some bloated |
| Fat tart with her hair Brylcreemed down and a big arse |
| Presenting Flamenco for Foreigners |
| Bounder: Shut up! |
| Smoketoomuch: And adenoidal typists from Birmingham |
| With flabby white legs and diarrhoea trying to pick up |
| Hairy… |
| Bounder: Please. |
| Smoketoomuch: …bandy-legged wop waiters called |
| Manuel,… |
| Bounder: .shut up! |
| Smoketoomuch: …and once a week there’s an excursion |
| To the local Roman ruins to buy cherryade and melted |
| Ice cream… |
| Bounder: I can’t bear it! |
| Smoketoomuch: …and bleedin' Watney’s Red Barrel, and |
| One evening you visit the so-called typical restaurant |
| With local colour… |
| Bounder: Shaddap! |
| Smoketoomuch: …and atmosphere and you sit next to a |
| Party of people from Rhyl who keeps singing |
| 'Torremolinos, Torremolinos', and complaining about the |
| Food, 'It's so greasy here isn’t it!' |
| and you get |
| Cornered by some drunken greengrocer from Luton with an |
| Instamatic and Dr Scholl sandals and Tuesday’s 'Daily |
| Express' and he drones on and on and on about how Mr |
| Smith should be running this country and how many… |
| Bounder: Stop it, please |
| Smoketoomuch: …languages Enoch Powell can speak and |
| Then he throws up all over the Cuba Libres |
| Bounder: Will you be quiet please |
| Smoketoomuch: And sending tinted postcards of places |
| They don’t realise they haven’t even visited, 'to |
| All… |
| Bounder: Shut up |
| Smoketoomuch: …at number 22, weather wonderful… |
| Bounder: PLEASE, SHUT UP! |
| Smoketoomuch: …our room is marked with an «X». |
| Food |
| Very greasy but we found a charming… |
| Bounder: Take it off! |
| TAKE IT OFF! |
| Smoketoomuch: …little place hidden away in the back |
| Streets, where they serve Watney’s Red Barrel and |
| Cheese and onion… |
| Bounder: For God’s sake, take it off. |
| TAKE IT OFF!!! |
| Smoketoomuch: …crisps and the accordionist plays |
| «Maybe its because I’m a Londoner"'… |
| (Sound of pick-up skating across record) |