Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song There Are Bad Times Just Around the Corner, artist - Noël Coward. Album song Mad Dogs & Englishmen, in the genre Джаз
Date of issue: 23.05.2015
Record label: Avid Entertainment
Song language: English
There Are Bad Times Just Around the Corner |
They’re out of sorts in Sunderland |
And terribly cross in Kent |
They’re dull in Hull |
And the Isle of Mull |
Is seething with discontent |
They’re nervous in Northumberland |
And Devon is down the drain |
They’re filled with wrath |
On the firth of Forth |
And sullen on Salisbury Plain |
In Dublin they’re depressed, lads |
Maybe because they’re Celts |
For Drake is going West, lads |
And so is everyone else |
Hurray-hurray-hurray! |
Misery’s here to stay |
There are bad times just around the corner |
There are dark clouds hurtling through the sky |
And it’s no good whining |
About a silver lining |
For we know from experience that they won’t roll by |
With a scowl and a frown |
We’ll keep our peckers down |
And prepare for depression and doom and dread |
We’re going to unpack our troubles from our old kit bag |
And wait until we drop down dead |
From Portland Bill to Scarborough |
They’re querulous and subdued |
And Shropshire lads |
Have behaved like cads |
From Berwick-on-Tweed to Bude |
They’re mad at Market Harborough |
And livid at Leigh-on-Sea |
In Tunbridge Wells |
You can hear the yells |
Of woe-begone bourgeoisie |
We all get bitched about, lads |
Whoever our vote elects |
We know we’re up the spout, lads |
And that’s what England expects |
Hurray-hurray-hurray! |
Trouble is on the way |
There are bad times just around the corner |
The horizon’s gloomy as can be |
There are black birds over |
The grayish cliffs of Dover |
And the rats are preparing to leave the B.B.C |
We’re an unhappy breed |
And very bored indeed |
When reminded of something that Nelson said |
While the press and the politicians nag nag nag |
We’ll wait until we drop down dead |
From Colwyn Bay to Kettering |
They’re sobbing themselves to sleep |
The shrieks and wails |
In the Yorkshire dales |
Have even depressed the sheep |
In rather vulgar lettering |
A very disgruntled group |
Have posted bills |
On the Cotswold Hills |
To prove that we’re in the soup |
While begging Kipling’s pardon |
There’s one thing we know for sure |
If England is a garden |
We ought to have more manure |
Hurray-hurray-hurray! |
Suffering and dismay |
There are bad times just around the corner |
And the outlook’s absolutely vile |
There are Home Fires smoking |
From Windermere to Woking |
And we’re not going to tighten our belts and smile, smile, smile |
At the sound of a shot |
We’d just as soon as not |
Take a hot water bottle and go to bed |
We’re going to untense our muscles till they sag sag sag |
And wait until we drop down dead |
There are bad times just around the corner |
We can all look forward to despair |
It’s as clear as crystal |
From Bridlington to Bristol |
That we can’t save democracy and we don’t much care |
If the Reds and the Pinks |
Believe that England stinks |
And that world revolution is bound to spread |
We’d better all learn the lyrics of the old 'Red Flag' |
And wait until we drop down dead |
A likely story |
Land of Hope and Glory |
Wait until we drop down dead |
There Are Bad Times Just Around The Corner |
They’re nervous in Nigeria |
And terribly cross in Crete |
In Bucharest |
They are so depressed |
They’re frightened to cross the street |
They’re sullen in Siberia |
And timid in Turkestan |
They’re sick with fright |
In the Isle of Wight |
And jittery in Japan |
The Irish groan and shout, lads |
Maybe because they’re Celts |
They know they’re up the spout, lads |
And so is everyone else |
Hurray! |
Hurray! |
Hurray! |
Trouble is on the way |
There are bad times just around the corner |
There are dark clouds hurtling through the sky |
And it’s no use whining |
About a silver lining |
For we KNOW from experience that they won’t roll by |
With a scowl and a frown |
We’ll keep our sprits down |
And prepare for depression and doom and dread |
We’re going to unpack our troubles from our old kit bag |
And wait until we drop down dead |
There are bad times just around the corner |
The horizon’s gloomy as can be |
There are black birds over |
They grayish cliffs of Dover |
And the vultures are hovering round the Christmas tree |
We’re an unhappy breed |
And ready to stampede |
When we’re asked to remember what Lincoln said |
We’re going to untense our muscles till they sag sag sag |
And wait until we drop down dead |
They’re morbid in Mongolia |
And querulous in Quebec |
There’s not a man |
In Baluchistan |
Who isn’t a nervous wreck |
In Maine the melancholia |
Is deeper than tongue can tell |
In Monaco |
All the croupiers know |
They haven’t a hope in Hell |
In far away Australia |
Each wallaby’s well aware |
The world’s a total failure |
Without any time to spare |
Hurray! |
Hurray! |
Hurray! |
Suffering and dismay |
There are bad times just around the corner |
We can all look forward to despair |
It’s as clear as crystal |
From Brooklyn Bridge to Bristol |
That we CAN’T save Democracy |
And we don’t much care |
At the sound of a shot |
We’d just as soon as not |
Take a hot-water bad and retire to bed |
And while the press and the politicians nag nag nag |
We’ll wait until we drop down dead |
There are bad times just around the corner |
And the outlook’s absolutely vile |
You can take this from us |
That when they Atom bomb us |
We are NOT going to tighten our belts and smile smile smile |
We are in such a mess |
It couldn’t matter less |
If a world revolution is just ahead |
We’d better all learn the lyrics of the old 'Red Flag' |
And wait until we drop down dead |
A likely story |
Land of Hope and Glory |
Wait until we drop down dead |