TV Talk (US Adaptation)

Lyrics

[Sue] — Oh Bob! Look there — those goofy jokers! Their mouths could use a zipper, right? All caked in paint like worn-out smokers And slurring like they drank all night! And that one — swear, I'm not insane — He looks like Joe from down the lane No, take a look! I'm not in vain — I'm right again! [Bob] — Now listen, Sue, don't slam my brother He's family — drunk or not, he stays You're caked in blush like any other And smell like ashtrays set ablaze! Instead of gripin' all the time How 'bout a beer run? Ain't no crime What, won't go out? Fine, I'll go climb! Just scoot, it's prime [Sue] — Oh Bob! Look there — thosе tiny dancers! In spandex, not a single sеam! No way our local dress enhancers Could stitch that mess — not in a dream And all your pals, for real, I swear Are broke and loud beyond compare They drink cheap booze in lawn chairs — there! That crew? Beware [Bob] — My friends might drink that budget liquor But least they pay with what they've earned They don't come home with wallets slicker And say, "The cash? Who knows — it burned!" And you, remember Hank from tires? He guzzled gas near open fires! You dated *that* — which never tires... You lit those wires! [Sue] — Oh Bob! Look there — that girl, she's stylin'! In crop top short and glitter tight! I want one too — I mean, I'm smilin'! You'd get me one, if you were right By end of month — you *could*, you know! Don't roll your eyes and shout "Heck no!" You always dodge — that's how you show? You hurt me so [Bob] — You'd better hush before I lose it That bonus check? You killed it dead! Who snitched on me? Don't you confuse it — I read the note. I know who said! And that crop top, it ain't your size — Would stretch like tarp across the skies Where's money now? You spent it — lies! No more "surprise." [Sue] — Oh Bob! That flip — he's quite the flipper! He spins like circus folks at fairs! Our foreman — Chuck — became a stripper While wasted last week on the stairs! But you come home, and what you do? You eat, then nap the whole night through Or yell when sober — always blue What's wrong with you? [Bob] — You always push, you always needle You love to nag and gripe and groan! I break my back for crumbs and diesel — And come back home... to you alone So yeah, I drink, I grab a case The bar's more fun than this old place At least I'm not some boozy disgrace — It's friends, not space!