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!