Bukowski
Well we sat on the edge of the river, the crowd screamed, "Sacrifice the liver!" If God takes life, he's an Indian giver. So tell me now why, you'll tell me never. Who would wanna be? Who would wanna be such a control freak? Well who wanna be? Who would wanna be such a control freak?
Well see what you wanna see. You should see it all. Well take what you want from me. you deserve it all. Nine times out of ten, our heart just gets dissolved. Well I want a better place or just a better way to fall. But one time out of ten, everything is perfect for us all. Well I want a better place or just a better way to fall.
Here we go! If God controls the land and disease, keeps a watchful eye on me, if he's really so damn mighty, my problem is that I can't see, well who'd wanna be? Who'd wanna be such a control freak? Well who'd wanna be? Who would wanna be such a control freak?
Evil home stereo, what good songs do you know? Evil me, oh yeah I know, what good curves can you throw? Well all that icing and all that cake, I can't make it to your wedding, but I'm sure I'll be at your wake. You were talk, talk, talk, talkin'in circles that day, when you get to the point make sure that I'm still awake, OK?
Went to bed and didn't see why every day turns out to be a little more like Bukowski. And yeah, I know he's a pretty good read. But God who'd wanna be? God who'd wanna be such an asshole?
MODEST MOUSE,
Good News For People Who Love Bad News
Bukowski : "Bluebird"
Good News For People Who Love Bad News
Bukowski : "Bluebird"
par Tamara
publié dans :
La poésie en chanson
LOVE MINUS ZERO-NO LIMIT
My love she speaks like silence,
Without ideals or violence,
She doesn't have to say she's faithful,
Yet she's true, like ice, like fire.
People carry roses,
Make promises by the hours,
My love she laughs like the flowers,
Valentines can't buy her.
In the dime stores and bus stations,
People talk of situations,
Read books, repeat quotations,
Draw conclusions on the wall.
Some speak of the future,
My love she speaks like silence,
Without ideals or violence,
She doesn't have to say she's faithful,
Yet she's true, like ice, like fire.
People carry roses,
Make promises by the hours,
My love she laughs like the flowers,
Valentines can't buy her.
In the dime stores and bus stations,
People talk of situations,
Read books, repeat quotations,
Draw conclusions on the wall.
Some speak of the future,
My love she speaks softly,
She knows there's no success like failure
And that failure's no success at all.
She knows there's no success like failure
And that failure's no success at all.
The cloak and dagger dangles,
Madams light the candles.
In ceremonies of the horsemen,
Even the pawn must hold a grudge.
Statues made of match sticks,
Crumble into one another,
My love winks, she does not bother,
She knows too much to argue or to judge.
Madams light the candles.
In ceremonies of the horsemen,
Even the pawn must hold a grudge.
Statues made of match sticks,
Crumble into one another,
My love winks, she does not bother,
She knows too much to argue or to judge.
The bridge at midnight trembles,
The country doctor rambles,
Bankers' nieces seek perfection,
Expecting all the gifts that wise men bring.
The wind howls like a hammer,
The night blows cold and rainy,
My love she's like some raven
At my window with a broken wing.
BOB DYLAN
The country doctor rambles,
Bankers' nieces seek perfection,
Expecting all the gifts that wise men bring.
The wind howls like a hammer,
The night blows cold and rainy,
My love she's like some raven
At my window with a broken wing.
BOB DYLAN
par Tamara
publié dans :
La poésie en chanson
