Les paroles de la chanson
« Not a tea dance »
Elton John
Come on get those gloves on
Elliot, you’re late
This is meant to be a boys club
And not a village fete
You’re a disgrace to your family
And to this boxing hall
It’s only as a favour
I’ll let you come at all
Get in here, get in here, get in here
Hit it Billy, whack him
Really get stuck in
It’s not a flaming tea dance
You’re in a bleeding gym
Stick one on it sunshine
Make the lights go out
Not a seaside special
You’re in a boxing bout
Jab, jab, left hook
Come up with the right
Stab, stab, belt him
Holy man, you’re shite
Elliot, you’re a disgrace to your father
The boxing gloves and the traditions of this boxing hall
’Morning girls
Attention lacks no mischiefs
The far end of the hall
Is being used for ballet
And modern jazz and all
So I want no hanky panky
It’s just the dancing class
And any working tickets
Will get ballet up their ass
And that means you Elliot, come on, get at him
_____ man get moving
You’re a like a fanny in a fit
Carry on like that son
You can kiss you in the bit
Go on now you’re talking
Smack him in the eye
Elliot you’re hopeless
You could make a grown man cry
You only get out of it what you put in
You have to risk losing before you can win
Don’t think, feel it, do what feels right
So can I go home now, can you shite
It’s all self-respect man
It’s all self-control
The bigger they are, son
The harder they fall
You don’t fight with fists, lad
Fight with your brain
Go on back in there
And try it again
Alright, I’ll do it, I’ll do it, I’ll do it
Jab, jab, left hook
Come up with the right
Stab, stab, that’s it
Holy man, you’re shite
It’s not a bleeding tea dance
Hit him where it hurts
You’re wearing bloody boxing gear
Not leotards and skirts
If I was your father
I’d kick you up the ass
It’s man to man, come back man
Not a West End fast
Jab, jab, left hook
Come up with the right
Stab, stab, that’s it
Holy man, you’re shite
Elliot, you’re late
This is meant to be a boys club
And not a village fete
You’re a disgrace to your family
And to this boxing hall
It’s only as a favour
I’ll let you come at all
Get in here, get in here, get in here
Hit it Billy, whack him
Really get stuck in
It’s not a flaming tea dance
You’re in a bleeding gym
Stick one on it sunshine
Make the lights go out
Not a seaside special
You’re in a boxing bout
Jab, jab, left hook
Come up with the right
Stab, stab, belt him
Holy man, you’re shite
Elliot, you’re a disgrace to your father
The boxing gloves and the traditions of this boxing hall
’Morning girls
Attention lacks no mischiefs
The far end of the hall
Is being used for ballet
And modern jazz and all
So I want no hanky panky
It’s just the dancing class
And any working tickets
Will get ballet up their ass
And that means you Elliot, come on, get at him
_____ man get moving
You’re a like a fanny in a fit
Carry on like that son
You can kiss you in the bit
Go on now you’re talking
Smack him in the eye
Elliot you’re hopeless
You could make a grown man cry
You only get out of it what you put in
You have to risk losing before you can win
Don’t think, feel it, do what feels right
So can I go home now, can you shite
It’s all self-respect man
It’s all self-control
The bigger they are, son
The harder they fall
You don’t fight with fists, lad
Fight with your brain
Go on back in there
And try it again
Alright, I’ll do it, I’ll do it, I’ll do it
Jab, jab, left hook
Come up with the right
Stab, stab, that’s it
Holy man, you’re shite
It’s not a bleeding tea dance
Hit him where it hurts
You’re wearing bloody boxing gear
Not leotards and skirts
If I was your father
I’d kick you up the ass
It’s man to man, come back man
Not a West End fast
Jab, jab, left hook
Come up with the right
Stab, stab, that’s it
Holy man, you’re shite
