Cheerful guys - Red Clown (I always loved dancing to this song). Cheerful guys - Red-haired clown (always loved to dance to this song) I used to be red-haired, now I’m gray-haired
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Funny guys - Clown Lyrics with chords
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Commissioned by Evgeny Sedov
Intro: Hm G Em F# - 2 times
Hm F#
The tent burns with bright lights in the night,
Em F# Hm
I'm just not happy right now
Hm F#
I stand, clutching my red wig in my hands,
Em F# Hm
This is my last time going to the arena
Em Hm
The trumpets play in unison,
G F#
And I hear from all sides:
Hm Em
F#Hm
Hm Em
C Hm F# Hm
C Hm F# Hm
Lose: Hm G Em F# - 2 times
Why, oh why can’t the audience hear me?
Everyone is screaming for me to put on a wig again
I can, but you can’t turn life back,
It's funny to you, but I'm almost an old man!
But the light hasn't gone out yet,
So give me the mascara one last time!
Red, red, red, come on, come on, make me laugh,
Red, red, red, the kids are laughing, laughing!
But I'll take off my wig, shaking, shaking my head,
I used to be red-haired, but now I’m gray-haired,
C Hm F# Em
I used to be red, but now I'm gray
Lose: Em G C F# - 2 times
Red, red, red, come on, come on, make me laugh,
Red, red, red, the kids are laughing, laughing!
But I'll take off my wig, shaking, shaking my head,
I used to be red-haired, but now I’m gray-haired,
C Hm F# Hm
I used to be red-haired, but now I’m gray...
Ending: Hm G Em F# - 2 times
?Red-haired clownMusic: Dobrynin V.
Words: Osiashvili S.
The tent burns with bright lights in the night,
But I'm not having any fun right now,
I stand, clutching my red wig in my hands,
It’s the last time I’ll go to the arena.
Trumpets play in unison
And I hear from all sides...
Red, red, red,
Come on, come on, make me laugh.
Red, red, red,
The kids laugh and laugh.
But I'll take off my wig
Shaking my head
I used to be red
And now gray-haired.
I used to be red
And now gray-haired.
Why, oh why can’t the audience hear me,
Everyone is screaming for me to put on a wig again.
I can, but you can’t turn life back,
It's funny to you, but I'm almost an old man.
But the light hasn't gone out yet,
So give the carcass one last time.
Red, red, red,
Come on, come on, make me laugh.
Red, red, red,
The kids laugh and laugh.
But I'll take off my wig
Shaking my head
I used to be red
And now gray-haired.
I used to be red
And now gray-haired.
Red, red, red,
Come on, come on, make me laugh.
Red, red, red,
The kids laugh and laugh.
But I'll take off my wig
Shaking my head
I used to be red
And now gray-haired.
I used to be red
And now gray-haired.
I don't know where to start, but probably first.
I was once browsing through our old computer and came across a folder with old songs, even those that our parents played for us! Looking into it, I almost immediately came across a very beautiful, but slightly sad song by VIA “Jolly Guys” “Red Clown”. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pyjmHXg4AbA
Having listened to it when I was much older, I understood it more deeply... the associations spun like a bright kaleidoscope, and I came to the thought of George.
The death of close, dear people always turns out to be a heavy burden for everyone, but time passes and the memories fade a little, they seem to fall behind steamed glass. Bright fragments are still visible in individual droplets, but they are already blurry. But with twins, everything is much more complicated. From birth they are connected by the strongest invisible bonds of each other's bright emotions and feelings, and if they are separated for a very short period of time... it will be very difficult for them to wake up. What can we say about death?
Fred and George were a shining example of unity, 1v2, so to speak. And I am completely sure that the death of Fred was tantamount to the loss of a part of himself for George.
I tried to understand what the surviving twin might have felt and... I couldn’t.
If you look at this situation soberly, then you should be glad that I never experienced such or similar feelings. But this is precisely what prevented me from writing a story from George’s point of view about my “life after death.”
I wanted to reflect the weight that he carried on his shoulders, but which still did not make him bend. Memories of an already old man from which he, contrary to common sense, still draws new strength to get out of bed and go out into people, to his family, to work, to the joy of others... to live at least with someone else's happiness, if he did not save his own. Describe the sad experience of wearing a mask, which, it seemed, should have grown tightly, but still did not, forcing you to suffer from human blindness and indifference. After all, he’s having fun, so it’s all over...
I really want someone to be able to look into his soul and write the story of his life.
These are the words of the song.
The tent burns with bright lights in the night,
But I'm not having any fun right now,
I stand, clutching my red wig in my hands,
It’s the last time I’ll go to the arena.
Trumpets play in unison
And I hear it from all sides.
Why, oh why can’t the audience hear me,
Everyone is screaming for me to put on a wig again,
I can, but you can’t turn life back,
It's funny to you, but I'm almost an old man,
But the light hasn't gone out yet,
So give the mascara one last time.
"Red, red, red, come on, come on, make me laugh!"
“Red, red, red,” the kids laugh and laugh.
But I’ll take off my wig, shaking, shaking my head, -
“I used to be red-haired, but now I’m gray-haired,
I used to be red-haired, but now I’m gray-haired."
Hey redhead!
Red, red, red...
Red, red, red...
"Red, red, red, come on, come on, make me laugh!"
“Red, red, red,” the kids laugh and laugh.
But I’ll take off my wig, shaking, shaking my head, -
“I used to be red-haired, but now I’m gray-haired,
I used to be red-haired, but now I’m gray-haired."
