Текст песни Moishe The Kid

Not long ago on one fine day in Flushing, Queens
The month was May
A day with more than normal count of smog
The word went out to stay inside, from Tel Aviv to Telluride
‘Cause Moishe the Kid was leashin’ up his dog

Well he’s a quiet man who loves his mutts
He loves ‘em so he drives ‘em nuts
He’s caring and he’s giving to a fault
But just watch out where you park your car,
You just might end up at the bar
And laying down a lawsuit for assault

Well oy vey and a yippie tiay and you might say his hair is grey but I’m telling
You he’s got shtetl dust in his blood
Well baruch-hu and a yippie tiyou I’m telling you he’s an ornery Jew who knocks
‘em flat and chugs himself a bud

Well on that day he hit the drive, you saw his eyes just come alive, His jaw ‘bout
Nearly almost hit the floor
‘Cause he could tell just by the tread, sides of green, top of red
This stagecoach was the Chevy from next door
He sidled over to the guy and let out with a pitied sigh
And punched him ‘til the joik was walking blind
And as Fido fertilized the flowers, mechanics had to work for hoursEric Schwartz - Moishe The Kid - http://ru.motolyrics.com/eric-schwartz/moishe-the-kid-lyrics.html

‘'cause just one punch and his wheels were misaligned

Well oy vey and a yippie tiay and you might say his hair is grey but I’m telling
You he’s got shtetl dust in his blood
Well baruch-hu and a yippie tiyou I’m telling you he’s an ornery Jew Who knocks
‘em flat and chugs himself a bud

Well, Moishe the Kid just tarried there
With his neighbor in intensive care
As a seven forty-seven crossed the moon
He stopped to savor the midnight smog
And whistled out to his trusty dog
And stepped back into his very own saloon
Now if you want to try you hand, and be the baddest in the land
Don’t say I didn’t warn you, ‘cause I did
And remember, please that fateful day
When the sorry soul got towed away
For parkin’ in the path of Moishe the Kid

Well oy vey and a yippie tiay and you might say his hair is grey but I’m telling
You he’s got shtetl dust in his blood
Well baruch-hu and a yippie tiyou I’m telling you he’s an ornery Jew Who knocks
‘em flat and chugs himself a bud