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NO REPLY (JOHN LENNON/PAUL McCARTNEY)
НИКТО НЕ ОТВЕЧАЕТ
Записана 30 сентября 1964г.

"Я помню, как уже после выхода этой песни Дик Джеймс подошел ко мне, - вспоминал Джон Леннон незадолго до смерти, - и сказал: "Ты делаешь успехи, это действительно законченная история". Наверное, до того ему казалось, что я вроде как не заканчиваю свои песни". Вскоре, однако, музыкальный редактор Дик Джеймс изменил свои вкусы благодаря новаторскому стилю "Битлз" - в 1966 г. никто уже не искал "законченных историй" в их песнях. Но Джеймс был прав в одном: несмотря на то что песня была романтической фантазией, ее структура и мелодия были совершенны, да и вокальная аранжировка была просто великолепной. Композициями, подобными этой, "Битлз", кажется, уже навсегда покорили вершину британского бита, однако в течение следующих двенадцати месяцев музыканты еще несколько раз сделают это. Двадцатью годами позже "No Reply" станет популярным сообщением на телефонных автоответчиках Британии.
 

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Who knows how long I've loved you
You know I love you still
Will I wait a lonely lifetime
If you want me to, I will

For if I ever saw you
I didn't catch your name
But it never really mattered
I will always feel the same

Love you forever and forever
Love you with all my heart
Love you whenever we're together
Love you when we're apart

And when at last I find you
Your song will fill the air
Sing it loud so I can hear you
Make it easy to be near you
For the things you do endear you to me
Oh, you know I will
I will
 

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In Penny Lane there is a barber showing photographs
Of every head he's had the pleasure to have known,
And all the people that come and go
Stop and say hello.

On the corner is a banker with a motorcar,
The little children laugh at him behind his back.
And the banker never wears a mac
In the pouring rain, very strange.

Penny Lane is in my ears and in my eyes.
There beneath the blue suburban skies
I sit, and meanwhile back

In Penny Lane there is a fireman with an hourglass
And in his pocket is a portrait of the Queen.
He likes to keep his fire engine clean,
It's a clean machine.

Penny Lane is in my ears and in my eyes.
A four of fish and finger pies
In summer, meanwhile back

Behind the shelter in the middle of the roundabout
A pretty nurse is selling poppies from a tray
And though she feels as if she's in a play
She is anyway.

In Penny Lane the barber shaves another customer,
We see the banker sitting waiting for a trim.
And then the fireman rushes in
From the pouring rain, very strange.

Penny Lane is in my ears and in my eyes.
There beneath the blue suburban skies
I sit, and meanwhile back.
Penny Lane is in my ears and in my eyes.
There beneath the blue suburban skies,
Penny Lane.

 

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Can't buy me love, love
Can't buy me love

I'll buy you a diamond ring my friend if it makes you feel alright
I'll get you anything my friend if it makes you feel alright
'Cause I don't care too much for money, money can't buy me love

I'll give you all I got to give if you say you love me too
I may not have a lot to give but what I got I'll give to you
I don't care too much for money, money can't buy me love

Can't buy me love, everybody tells me so
Can't buy me love, no no no, no

Say you don't need no diamond rings and I'll be satisfied
Tell me that you want the kind of thing that money just can't buy
I don't care too much for money, money can't buy me love

Can't buy me love, everybody tells me so
Can't buy me love, no no no, no

Say you don't need no diamond rings and I'll be satisfied
Tell me that you want the kind of things that money just can't buy
I don't care too much for money, money can't buy me love

Can't buy me love, love,
(Can't buy me) love

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When I get older losing my hair many years from now
Will you still be sending me a valentine,
Birthday greetings, bottle of wine?
If I'd been out til quarter to three would you lock the door?
Will you still need me, will you still feed me, when I'm sixty-four?

Oh, you'll be older too - Ah
And if you say the word, I could stay with you

I could be handy mending a fuse when your lights have gone
You can knit a sweater by the fireside,
Sunday mornings, go for a ride
Doing the garden, digging the weeds, who could ask for more?
Will you still need me, will you still feed me, when I'm sixty-four?

Every summer we could rent a cottage in the Isle of White,
If it's not too dear
We shall skrimp and save, grandchildren at your knees,
Vera, Chuck, and Dave

Send me a postcard, drop me a line stating point of view
Indicate precisely what you mean to say,
Yours sincerely, wasting away
Give me an answer, fill in a form, mine forevermore
Will you still need me, will you still feed me, when I'm sixty-four?
 

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