Текст и слова песни Roger Whittaker – A Special Kind Of Man
Myself I'm made of nothing
And my head is stuffed with hay,
But my brother was a poet,
Or at least that's what they say
Myself I'm made of nothing
I'm just an 'also-ran'
My brother was a poet
And a very special kind of man
He painted scenes of dragons,
Knights in armour, bold and brave.
And show me how they rescue ladies fair.
And I killed a hundred dragons.
Rescue damsels in distres
And that really isn't bad,
For a man who wasn't there.
Oh, myself I'm made of nothing,
My head is stuffed with hay,
But my brother was a poet,
Or at least that's what they say.
Myself I made of nothing.
I'm just an 'also-ran',
My brother was a poet,
And a very special kind of man.
He's done so much with his fine words
To brighten up our lives,
With his poems of the working man,
Their mothers and their wife's.
Had a short life and a sweet one.
Had no time to plot or plan.
My brother was a poet
And a very special kind of man.
Oh, myself I'm made of nothing,
My head is stuffed with hay,
But my brother was a poet,
Or at least that's what they say.
Myself I'm made of nothing.
I'm just an 'also-ran',
My brother was a poet
And a very special kind of man
Oh, myself I'm made of nothing,
My head is stuffed with hay.
But my brother was a poet,
Or at least that's what they say.
Myself I'm made of nothing.
I'm just an 'also-ran',
My brother was a poet,
And a very special kind of man.
And my head is stuffed with hay,
But my brother was a poet,
Or at least that's what they say
Myself I'm made of nothing
I'm just an 'also-ran'
My brother was a poet
And a very special kind of man
He painted scenes of dragons,
Knights in armour, bold and brave.
And show me how they rescue ladies fair.
And I killed a hundred dragons.
Rescue damsels in distres
And that really isn't bad,
For a man who wasn't there.
Oh, myself I'm made of nothing,
My head is stuffed with hay,
But my brother was a poet,
Or at least that's what they say.
Myself I made of nothing.
I'm just an 'also-ran',
My brother was a poet,
And a very special kind of man.
He's done so much with his fine words
To brighten up our lives,
With his poems of the working man,
Their mothers and their wife's.
Had a short life and a sweet one.
Had no time to plot or plan.
My brother was a poet
And a very special kind of man.
Oh, myself I'm made of nothing,
My head is stuffed with hay,
But my brother was a poet,
Or at least that's what they say.
Myself I'm made of nothing.
I'm just an 'also-ran',
My brother was a poet
And a very special kind of man
Oh, myself I'm made of nothing,
My head is stuffed with hay.
But my brother was a poet,
Or at least that's what they say.
Myself I'm made of nothing.
I'm just an 'also-ran',
My brother was a poet,
And a very special kind of man.
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