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07/11/2008

I am a Patriot

=--=Publié dans la Catégorie "Music..."=--=

Composé et écrit par un second couteau de premier ordre, guitariste et pote de Bruce Springsteen en personne, Steve Van Zandt, dit Little Steven...


Little Steven

Mais interprété, ici, par Monsieur Jackson Browne


Jackson Browne

"I am a Patriot

And the river opens for the righteous
And the river opens for the righteous
And the river opens for the righteous
Someday

I was walking with my brother
And he wondered what's on my mind
I said what I believe in my soul
Aint what I see with my eyes
And we cant turn our backs this time

I am a patriot
And I love my country
Because my country is all I know
I want to be with my family
The people who understand me
Ive got nowhere else to go

And the river opens for the righteous
And the river opens for the righteous
And the river opens for the righteous
Someday

And I was talking with my sister
She looked so fine
I said, baby, what's on your mind ? 
She said, I want to run like the lion
Released from the cages
Released from the rages
Burning in my heart tonight

And I ain't no communist
And I ain't no capitalist
And I ain't no socialist
And I ain't no imperialist
And I ain't no democrat
And I ain't no republican
I only know one party
And it is freedom


I am, I am, I am
I am a patriot
And I love my country
Because my country is all I know

And the river opens for the righteous
And the river opens for the righteous
And the river opens for the righteous
Someday"


...aux bobos qui continuent à se dissoudre...


...je prends date... moi je mets ma peau sur la table...

 

07:00 Publié dans Music... | Lien permanent | Commentaires (2) | |  del.icio.us | | Digg! Digg |  Facebook

03/11/2008

Venus in Furs

=--=Publié dans la Catégorie "Music..."=--=

Venus in Furs(Words & Music : Lou Reed)

Shiny, shiny, shiny boots of leather
Whiplash girlchild in the dark
Clubs and bells, your servant, don't forsake him
Strike, dear mistress, and cure his heart

Downy sins of streetlight fancies
Chase the costumes she shall wear
Ermine furs adorn the imperious
Severin, severin awaits you there

I am tired, I am weary
I could sleep for a thousand years
A thousand dreams that would awake me
Different colors made of tears

Kiss the boot of shiny, shiny leather
Shiny leather in the dark
Tongue of thongs, the belt that does await you
Strike, dear mistress, and cure his heart

Severin, severin, speak so slightly
Severin, down on your bended knee
Taste the whip, in love not given lightly
Taste the whip, now plead for me

I am tired, I am weary
I could sleep for a thousand years
A thousand dreams that would awake me
Different colors made of tears

Shiny, shiny, shiny boots of leather
Whiplash girlchild in the dark
Severin, your servant comes in bells, please dont forsake him
Strike, dear mistress, and cure his heart"

"La vie ne vaut que par la jouissance ; qui jouit quitte la vie avec peine ; qui souffre et manque de tout, salue la mort comme une amie. Mais qui veut jouir doit prendre la vie purement au sens antique : il ne doit pas s’effaroucher de se plonger dans la débauche, fût-ce aux dépens d’autrui ; il doit toujours être impitoyable ; il doit atteler autrui à son char ou à sa charrue, comme une bête de somme. Aux hommes qui, comme celui-ci — elle me désigna — éprouvent de la volupté, de la jouissance à se faire les esclaves de leur semblable, qui, loin de regretter leur servitude, en sont heureux et partagent les joies qu’ils causent, ne demandez pas d’aller librement à la mort. Quant au maître, il doit toujours se dire : "S’ils m’avaient en main, comme je les ai, ils agiraient de même envers moi et je devrais payer leurs jouissances de ma sueur, de mon sang, voire de mon âme !" Tel était le monde antique : jouissance et cruauté, liberté et esclavage, ont, de tout temps, marché de conserve ; les hommes qui veulent vivre comme les dieux de l’Olympe, doivent avoir des esclaves qu’ils jettent dans les viviers, des gladiateurs qu’ils font combattre à leurs somptueux festins et qui ne font rien d’autre que de se tirer un peu de sang !" (Leopold von Sacher-Masoch, La Vénus à la fourrure).


Leopold von Sacher-Masoch

 

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09/10/2008

Paul Williams

=--=Publié dans la Catégorie "Music..."=--=


Deux perles à écouter sans modération, composées par Paul Williams pour le film de Brian de Palma, Phantom of the Paradise, inspiré du Mythe Romantique Faustien ainsi que de l'oeuvre de Gaston Leroux, Le Fantôme de l'Opéra mais transposé, ici, dans l'univers dépravé du Rock and Roll.


Paul Williams


Paul Williams

 

"Faust

I was not myself last night
Couldn't set things right
With apologies or flowers
Out of place as a cryin' clown
Who could only frown
And the play went on for hours
And as I lived my role
I swore I'd sell my soul
For one love who would stand by me
And give me back the gift of laughter
One love who would stand by me
And after making love we'd...

Dream a bit of style
We'd dream a bunch of friends
Dream each others smile
And dream it never ends

I was not myself last night
In the morning light
I could see the change was showing
Like a child who was always poor
Reaching out for more
I could feel the hunger growing
And as I lost control
I swore I'd sell my soul
For one love who would sing my song
And fill this emptiness inside me
One love who would sing my song
And lay beside me while we'd...

Dream a bit of style
We'd dream a bunch of friends
Dream each others smile
And dream it never ends

All my dreams are lost and I can't sleep
And sleep alone could ease my mind
All my tears have dried and I can't weep
Old emotions
May they rest in peace and dream
Dream a bunch of friends - rest in peace
And dream, dream it never ends"

 

 

"Phantom's Theme
(Beauty and the Beast)


Half asleep I
Hear a voice
Is it only in my mind ?
Or is it someone
Calling me
Someone I failed and left behind?

To Work it out I let them in
All the good guys and the bad guys
That I've been
All the devils that disturbed me
And The angels that defeated them somehow
Come together in me
Now

Face to face I greet the cast
Set in silence we
Begin
Companions in an empty room
I taste their victory
And sin

To work it out I let them in
All the good
Guys and the bad guys that I've been
All the devils
That disturbed me
And the angels that defeated them
Somehow
Come together in me now

A tale of beauty
And the beast
I defend my soul from those who would accuse me
I share the famine and the feast
I have been the
World and felt it turning
Seen the jester yearning to amuse
Me

Like a circus on parade
Seldom close enough to
See
I wander through an angry crowd
And wonder what
Became of me

To work it out I let them in
All the
Good guys and the bad guys that I've been
All the
Devils that disturbed me
And the angels that defeated them
Somehow
Come together in me now"

 

16:53 Publié dans Music... | Lien permanent | Commentaires (3) | |  del.icio.us | | Digg! Digg |  Facebook

24/09/2008

Hollywood Bitch

=--=Publié dans la Catégorie "Music..."=--=

Scott Weiland : "I’m still a practicing Catholic, and it’s an interesting dichotomy: I haven’t lived my life like a perfect Catholic, but I don’t think you have to. I believe in the Devil: I experienced some very bizarre things when I was in the height of my addiction — popped a cork in the genie bottle and felt the Devil — not, like, literally Satan, but energy from that side of the spectrum."






"Hollywood Bitch

You're on the outside
You're lookin' in
You're takin' pictures of what you never been
So kill to kill
So ya wanna die ?
You're burnin' slowly - with seven lives

Blow up the bitch with the firecracker smile
Switchblade in her suitcase
Loves to drive 'em wild
So kill to kill
Yeah ya gonna die
everybody's searchin' - every single night

You'll never keep it cause you sold yourself
And by the way
You'll never lose it cause you never had it
It's all the same

Rock star life - turn on the switch
Hollywood bitch - so fake that it seems real
she goes again


She's from the "Westside", she's lookin' thin
She fills her body with what she'll never be
So kill to kill
So you wanna die?
Everybody's searchin - every single night

You'll never keep it cause you sold yourself
And by the way
You'll never lose it cause you never had it
It's all the same

Rock star life - turn on the switch
Hollywood bitch - so fake that it seems real
she goes again"


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23/09/2008

Happy Birthday Boss...

=--=Publié dans la Catégorie "Music..."=--=

Le Boss a 59 piges aujourd'hui. Happy Birthday.

LA chanson qui tue... musique... texte... interprétation.



"The River


I come from down in the valley
where mister when you're young
They bring you up to do like your daddy done
Me and Mary we met in high school
when she was just seventeen
We'd ride out of that valley down to where the fields were green

We'd go down to the river
And into the river we'd dive
Oh down to the river we'd ride

Then I got Mary pregnant
and man that was all she wrote
And for my nineteenth birthday I got a union card and a wedding coat
We went down to the courthouse
and the judge put it all to rest
No wedding day smiles no walk down the aisle
No flowers no wedding dress

That night we went down to the river
And into the river we'd dive
Oh down to the river we did ride

I got a job working construction for the Johnstown Company
But lately there ain't been much work on account of the economy
Now all them things that seemed so important
Well mister they vanished right into the air
Now I just act like I don't remember
Mary acts like she don't care

But I remember us riding in my brother's car
Her body tan and wet down at the reservoir
At night on them banks I'd lie awake
And pull her close just to feel each breath she'd take
Now those memories come back to haunt me
they haunt me like a curse
Is a dream a lie if it don't come true
Or is it something worse
that sends me down to the river
though I know the river is dry
That sends me down to the river tonight
Down to the river
my baby and I
Oh down to the river we ride"


Puis Bruce met le feu...



"Dancing in the dark

I get up in the evening
and I ain't got nothing to say
I come home in the morning
I go to bed feeling the same way
I ain't nothing but tired
Man I'm just tired and bored with myself
Hey there baby, I could use just a little help

You can't start a fire
You can't start a fire without a spark
This gun's for hire
even if we're just dancing in the dark

Message keeps getting clearer
radio's on and I'm moving 'round the place
I check my look in the mirror
I wanna change my clothes, my hair, my face
Man I ain't getting nowhere
I'm just living in a dump like this
There's something happening somewhere
baby I just know that there is

You can't start a fire
you can't start a fire without a spark
This gun's for hire
even if we're just dancing in the dark

You sit around getting older
there's a joke here somewhere and it's on me
I'll shake this world off my shoulders
come on baby this laugh's on me

Stay on the streets of this town
and they'll be carving you up alright
They say you gotta stay hungry
hey baby I'm just about starving tonight
I'm dying for some action
I'm sick of sitting 'round here trying to write this book
I need a love reaction
come on now baby gimme just one look

You can't start a fire sitting 'round crying over a broken heart
This gun's for hire
Even if we're just dancing in the dark
You can't start a fire worrying about your little world falling apart
This gun's for hire
Even if we're just dancing in the dark
Even if we're just dancing in the dark
Even if we're just dancing in the dark
Even if we're just dancing in the dark
Hey baby"

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17/09/2008

Richard Wright... R.I.P.

=--=Publié dans la Catégorie "Music..."=--=

Richard Wright est mort le 15 septembre.







Repose en paix.

00:35 Publié dans Music... | Lien permanent | Commentaires (1) | |  del.icio.us | | Digg! Digg |  Facebook

15/09/2008

Henri Salvador : Blouse du dentiste

=--=Publié dans la Catégorie "Music..."=--=




Découvrez Henri Salvador!


Ou téléchargez-la en fichier mp3 ci dessous...

Blouse du Dentiste (.mp3)





Paroles de Boris Vian...



21:10 Publié dans Music... | Lien permanent | Commentaires (0) | |  del.icio.us | | Digg! Digg |  Facebook

11/09/2008

De Profundis

=--=Publié dans la Catégorie "Music..."=--=

De Profundis (Out of the Depths of Sorrow)... album : Spleen & Ideal (1985)




Découvrez Dead Can Dance!



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07/09/2008

Gluecifer

=--=Publié dans la Catégorie "Music..."=--=

Dommage que le groupe soit dissout car, comme on dit, ça envoyait du bois...

Anyway... Enjoy !


Gluecifer : Car Full Of Stash (Live)


Gluecifer : Take it (Live)


Gluecifer : Here Come The Pigs


Gluecifer : A Call From The Other Side


Gluecifer : Dingdong Thing

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06/09/2008

Danko Jones

=--=Publié dans la Catégorie "Music..."=--=





Danko Jones ouvriront pour Motörhead le 26 Novembre prochain au Zénith de Paris... I'll be there.

18:48 Publié dans Music... | Lien permanent | Commentaires (0) | |  del.icio.us | | Digg! Digg |  Facebook

22/08/2008

Break on through to the other side... chantaient les Doors...

=--=Publié dans la Catégorie "Music..."=--=

"MATONS DE PANURGE

Défendre la littérature comme la seule liberté précaire encore plus ou moins en circulation, implique que l'on sache exactement ce qui la menace de partout. Même s'ils sont légion, les ennemis de la littérature sont également nommables et concrets. Les pires, bien sûr, logent aujourd'hui dans le cœur de la littérature, où ils sont massivement infiltrés, corrompant celle-ci de leur pharisaïsme besogneux, de leur lyrisme verdâtre, de leurs bonnes intentions gangstériques et de leur scoutisme collectiviste en prolégomènes à la tyrannie qu'ils entendent exercer sur tout ce qui, d'aventure, ne consentirait pas encore à s'agenouiller devant leurs mots d'ordre, ni à partager leur credo d'hypocrites. Sous leur influence, l'écrit lui-même est devenu une prison. Ils contrôlent jour et nuit les barreaux de la taule. Ils dénoncent sur-le-champ les plus petites velléités de rébellion ou seulement d'indépendance. Ces surveillants nuisent en troupeau : ce sont les matons de Panurge."


Exorcismes spirituels I Philippe Muray




Ô ma Rédemption, tu tardes à venir. J’ai mon orgueil à tuer et mon vin à tirer. Je boirai ma coupe à la fête de mes noces. J’ai besoin d’une pluie purificatrice. J’ai besoin d’un soleil vivifiant, que ses caresses m’irradient de forces et d’assurance. Un soleil grec. Odeurs de pin et de mer de ma jeunesse. Chair salée par le vent sous le regard des jolies filles. Friture de poisson et pastèques rafraichissantes. L’œil de Dieu sondeur et son sourire infini. Corps svelte. Esprit tranchant. Âme légère. Bénédiction.

Je rêve d’une ivresse sobre.

Un jour de pluie, les nuages bas, la clarté qui perce par endroit, je marche sans parapluie par les rues crasseuses. Je suis dans le flux du temps, dans la pulsation du rêve, la cervelle brulée par la lucidité. Cruel est ce songe. L’immédiateté se dérobe aisément à nos sens parce que refusant de puiser en nous, nous quémandons un enchantement lointain.

La lourdeur du corps
Et le feu à l’intérieur.
Couler malgré tout.
Chercher le gouffre.
Car c’est la nuit
Et il faut dormir.

J’écris dans la nuit, souvent. À cette heure où le silence, jamais total, fait un bruit d’insectes lointains. Bruissement du système d’aération. Soupir de Marie qui dort. La pensée se contracte, se rétracte, s’enroule et se déroule. Malgré moi, une plainte joyeuse, un chuintement de prière. Un spasme d’exil. Comment nommer quelque chose de vaste avec une langue pure et réduite ? Puis le réfrigérateur de la cuisine se met en marche et me ramène à la réalité première. Alors je me verse un picon-bière et allume une cigarette. Demain, au travail, mon esprit reclus s’adaptera à la tombe. Durant la pause, seul dans mon coin, je tracerai sur une feuille, ou dans ce carnet qui me sert de soupape de sécurité, ô fidèle compagnon, quelques phrases rugueuses pour mettre à jour, comme en une fouille archéologique des vestiges inconnus, des mots-mirages de mon désert en friche.

Douleur au coude.
Douleur aux lombaires.
Douleur atroce à la mâchoire.
Mes articulations sont hantées.

Je regroupe dans la douleur les fragments de moi-même. Je l’aime ce carnet qui contient mon désert, mais je sais instinctivement qu’il n’est qu’un subterfuge.

Écrire résout-il quelque chose ?

Écrire m’aide, en tout cas, à ne pas me déposséder de moi-même. Parvenir à conserver, dans l’écrin de ma conscience, comme un diamant vulgaire qu’il convient de purifier, de tailler, la meilleure part de moi-même.


Il faut, à présent, une musique de générique de fin, histoire de couler dans le sommeil profond, le sommeil du sommeil, le sommeil vermeille et doux, le sommeil de miel qui enrobe et nourrit, la porte dérobée qui me fait ignorer les matons de panurge...

Passer de l'autre côté...



"Exit Music (For A Film)

Wake.. from your sleep
The drying of your tears
Today we escape, we escape

Pack.. and get dressed
Before your father hears us
Before all hell breaks loose

Breathe, keep breathing
Don't lose your nerve
Breathe, keep breathing
I can't do this alone

Sing.. us a song
A song to keep us warm
There's such a chill, such a chill

You can laugh
A spineless laugh
We hope your rules and wisdom choke you
Now we are one in everlasting peace

We hope that you choke, that you choke
We hope that you choke, that you choke
We hope that you choke, that you choke"



Radiohead



Et la magnifique version Jazz, instrumentale, qu'en a faite Brad Meldau, sublime pianiste, lumineux et sensible...

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16/08/2008

La chute d'un Géant...

=--=Publié dans la Catégorie "Music..."=--=

Le 21 Juin 1977...25 jours avant sa mort...



"Unchained melody


Oh, my love, my darling,
I've hungered for your touch,
A long, lonely time.
And time goes by, so slowly,
And time can do so much.
Are you still mine?
I need your love.
I need your love.
God spend your love to me.

Lonely rivers flow to the sea, to the sea,
To the open arms of the sea, yeah
Lonely rivers sigh, wait for me, wait for me,
I'll be coming home, wait for me.

Oh, my love, my darling,
I've hungered, hungered for your touch,
For love. Lonely time.
And time goes by, so slowly,
And time can do so much,
Are you still mine?
I need your love.
I need your love.
God spend your love to me."


A propos de la chanson...

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10/08/2008

It's the end of the world as we know it and i feel fine...

=--=Publié dans la Catégorie "Music..."=--=

Vu chez Ilys :

"Nous autres, civilisations, nous savons maintenant que nous sommes mortelles.

Nous avions entendu parler de mondes disparus tout entiers, d’empires coulés à pic avec tous leurs hommes et tous leurs engins; descendus au fond inexplorable des siècles avec leurs dieux et leurs lois, leurs académies et leurs sciences pures et appliquées, avec leurs grammaires, leurs dictionnaires, leurs classiques, leurs romantiques et leurs symbolistes, leurs critiques et les critiques de leurs critiques. Nous savions bien que toute la terre apparente est faite de cendres, que la cendre signifie quelque chose. Nous apercevions à travers l’épaisseur de l’histoire, les fantômes d’immenses navires qui furent chargés de richesse et d’esprit. Nous ne pouvions pas les compter. Mais ces naufrages, après tout, n’étaient pas notre affaire.

Élam, Ninive, Babylone étaient de beaux noms vagues, et la ruine totale de ces mondes avait aussi peu de signification pour nous que leur existence même. Mais France, Angleterre, Russie… ce seraient aussi de beaux noms. Lusitania aussi est un beau nom. Et nous voyons maintenant que l’abîme de l’histoire est assez grand pour tout le monde. Nous sentons qu’une civilisation a la même fragilité qu’une vie. Les circonstances qui enverraient les œuvres de Keats et celles de Baudelaire rejoindre les œuvres de Ménandre ne sont plus du tout inconcevables : elles sont dans les journaux."


Paul Valery (1919), La crise de l'esprit


Voici la fin du monde... montez le son et dansons...


REM


"It's the end of the world as we know it and i feel fine...

That's great, it starts with an earthquake, birds and snakes,
an aeroplane - Lenny Bruce is not afraid.
Eye of a hurricane, listen to yourself churn,
world serves its own needs, dummy serve your own needs.
Feed it off an aux speak,, grunt, no, strength,
The ladder starts to clatter with fear fight down height.
Wire in a fire, representing seven games, a government for hire and a combat site.
Left of west and coming in a hurry with the furies breathing down your neck.
Team by team reporters baffled, trumped, tethered cropped.
Look at that low playing!
Fine, then.
Uh oh, overflow, population, common food, but it'll do.
Save yourself, serve yourself. World serves its own needs, listen to your heart bleed dummy with the rapture and the revered and the right - right.
You vitriolic, patriotic, slam, fight, bright light, feeling pretty psyched.

It's the end of the world as we know it.
It's the end of the world as we know it.
It's the end of the world as we know it and I feel fine.

Six o'clock - TV hour. Don't get caught in foreign towers.
Slash and burn, return, listen to yourself churn.
Locking in, uniforming, book burning, blood letting.
Every motive escalate. Automotive incinerate.
Light a candle, light a votive. Step down, step down.
Watch your heel crush, crushed. Uh-oh, this means no fear cavalier.
Renegade steer clear! A tournament, a tournament, a tournament of lies.
Offer me solutions, offer me alternatives and I decline.

It's the end of the world as we know it.
It's the end of the world as we know it. (It's time I had some time alone)
It's the end of the world as we know it (It's time I had some time alone) and I feel fine.
(I feel fine)

It's the end of the world as we know it. (It's time I had some time alone)
It's the end of the world as we know it. (It's time I had some time alone)
It's the end of the world as we know it (It's time I had some time alone) and I feel fine.

The other night I dreamt of knives, continental drift divide. Mountains sit in a line
Leonard Bernstein. Leonid Brezhnev. Lenny Bruce and Lester Bangs.
Birthday party, cheesecake, jelly bean, boom!
You symbiotic, patriotic, slam book neck, right? Right.

It's the end of the world as we know it. (It's time I had some time alone)
It's the end of the world as we know it. (It's time I had some time alone)
It's the end of the world as we know it (It's time I had some time alone) and I feel fine.

It's the end of the world as we know it.
It's the end of the world as we know it.
It's the end of the world as we know it (It's time I had some time alone) and I feel fine.

It's the end of the world as we know it. (It's time I had some time alone)
It's the end of the world as we know it. (It's time I had some time alone)
It's the end of the world as we know it (It's time I had some time alone) and I feel fine.

It's the end of the world as we know it. (It's time I had some time alone)
It's the end of the world as we know it. (It's time I had some time alone)
It's the end of the world as we know it (It's time I had some time alone) and I feel fine..."

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09/08/2008

King's X : Summerland

=--=Publié dans la Catégorie "Music..."=--=

"For it is one thing to see the land of peace from a wooded ridge... and another to tread the road that leads to it." affirme la citation de Saint Augustin en introduction du clip. Mais je vous donne la citation entière et en français s'il vous plaît :

"Oui, autre chose est d’apercevoir du haut d’un roc sauvage la patrie de la paix, sans trouver le chemin qui y mène, et de s’épuiser en vains efforts, par des sentiers perdus, pour échapper aux embûches de ces fugitifs, déserteurs de Dieu , guerroyant contre l’homme sous la conduite de leur prince tout ensemble lion et dragon; autre chose, de suivre la véritable route, protégée par l’armée du souverain empereur, où n’osent marauder les transfuges de la milice céleste : car cette voie ils l’évitent comme un supplice. Et ma substance s’assimilait merveilleusement ces vérités : à la lecture du moindre de vos apôtres (I Cor. XV, 9), je considérais vos oeuvres, et j’admirais (Habac. III, 2)." Saint Augustin, Les Confessions, Livre VII, Chapitre XXI.



"Summerland in my past
Days were full and i knew it would last
I never thought there was anything else but you
Summerland
The wind is getting cold
Summerland
You're finally getting old
Not much time
There's much to do
Look ahead and walk on through
No one's taking sides this time it's you
Summerland
Your sky can still be blue
Summerland
Always in love with you"

19:30 Publié dans Music... | Lien permanent | Commentaires (2) | |  del.icio.us | | Digg! Digg |  Facebook

06/08/2008

Blindside : "Pitiful"

=--=Publié dans la Catégorie "Music..."=--=

Blindside, groupe aimé par certains, haï par beaucoup. Pourquoi ? Parce que c'est un groupe chrétien... et qu'il désarçonne d'autant plus que sa musique est bien foutue et intelligente.



" Pitiful


As I recall with my stomach turning
I was hiding away from myself, away from you
Like nothing, though something was terribly wrong
And I admit that I was only waiting for the right time
Night time, the right moment for you to look away
Though you never did, I pretended for a while
So I could walk where I dont belong

And I remember every word you said
Come back in time, come back
And I remember I would soon be dead
Now so pitiful, so pitiful

But I know, as I hammered those nails into your beautiful hands
Your eyes still try to search for mine, but I look away
Now your eyes are the only thing that can save me
Im still so afraid of them piercing
You're breaking into my prison,
Just pretended for a while
My soul is dying
I wont look away

And I remember every word you said...

I'll remember every word you said
This time I won't look away"

 

07:00 Publié dans Music... | Lien permanent | Commentaires (0) | |  del.icio.us | | Digg! Digg |  Facebook