quinta-feira, janeiro 30, 2014
terça-feira, janeiro 28, 2014
We Are Explorers
Can you tell me a story
From the end of the night
Girl you tell to break the ice
And the love will go fine
Can you tell me you think straight
Plot a course in the landscape
Just tell me you're fine
We are the people
We are here alone
We are explorers when the beat goes on
We're on a journey to the morning sun
To-geth-er
Got a face for the frontpage
You should join me sometime
I wanna dream up a new age
If the planets align
With a hunger for never
Windows stretching forever
Just tell me you're fine
We are the people
We are here alone
We are explorers when beat goes on
We're on a journey to the morning sun
Together
You'll get through with a little love
Just you wait and see
You'll get through with a little love
Just you wait and see
Keep my hands up pointing to the sky
Until the daylight comes, into our minds to rescue us
(Cut Copy)
From the end of the night
Girl you tell to break the ice
And the love will go fine
Can you tell me you think straight
Plot a course in the landscape
Just tell me you're fine
We are the people
We are here alone
We are explorers when the beat goes on
We're on a journey to the morning sun
To-geth-er
Got a face for the frontpage
You should join me sometime
I wanna dream up a new age
If the planets align
With a hunger for never
Windows stretching forever
Just tell me you're fine
We are the people
We are here alone
We are explorers when beat goes on
We're on a journey to the morning sun
Together
You'll get through with a little love
Just you wait and see
You'll get through with a little love
Just you wait and see
Keep my hands up pointing to the sky
Until the daylight comes, into our minds to rescue us
(Cut Copy)
Etiquetas: Cut Copy
segunda-feira, janeiro 27, 2014
sexta-feira, janeiro 24, 2014
Bolero do coronel sensível que fez amor em Monsanto
Eu que me comovo
Por tudo e por nada
Deixei-te parada
Na berma da estrada
Usei o teu corpo
Paguei o teu preço
Esqueci o teu nome
Limpei-me com o lenço
Olhei-te a cintura
De pé no alcatrão
Levantei-te as saias
Deitei-te no banco
Num bosque de faias
De mala na mão
Nem sequer falaste
Nem sequer beijaste
Nem sequer gemeste,
Mordeste, abraçaste
Quinhentos escudos
Foi o que disseste
Tinhas quinze anos
Dezasseis, dezassete
Cheiravas a mato
À sopa dos pobres
A infância sem quarto
A suor, a chiclete
Saíste do carro
Alisando a blusa
Espiei da janela
Rosto de aguarela
Coxa em semifusa
Soltei o travão
Voltei para casa
De chaves na mão
Sobrancelha em asa
Disse: fiz serão
Ao filho e à mulher
Repeti a fruta
Acabei a ceia
Larguei o talher
Estendi-me na cama
De ouvido à escuta
E perna cruzada
Que de olhos em chama
Só tinha na ideia
Teu corpo parado
Na berma da estrada
Eu que me comovo
Por tudo e por nada
(A Naifa)
Por tudo e por nada
Deixei-te parada
Na berma da estrada
Usei o teu corpo
Paguei o teu preço
Esqueci o teu nome
Limpei-me com o lenço
Olhei-te a cintura
De pé no alcatrão
Levantei-te as saias
Deitei-te no banco
Num bosque de faias
De mala na mão
Nem sequer falaste
Nem sequer beijaste
Nem sequer gemeste,
Mordeste, abraçaste
Quinhentos escudos
Foi o que disseste
Tinhas quinze anos
Dezasseis, dezassete
Cheiravas a mato
À sopa dos pobres
A infância sem quarto
A suor, a chiclete
Saíste do carro
Alisando a blusa
Espiei da janela
Rosto de aguarela
Coxa em semifusa
Soltei o travão
Voltei para casa
De chaves na mão
Sobrancelha em asa
Disse: fiz serão
Ao filho e à mulher
Repeti a fruta
Acabei a ceia
Larguei o talher
Estendi-me na cama
De ouvido à escuta
E perna cruzada
Que de olhos em chama
Só tinha na ideia
Teu corpo parado
Na berma da estrada
Eu que me comovo
Por tudo e por nada
(A Naifa)
Etiquetas: A Naifa
quinta-feira, janeiro 16, 2014
Cansei
Cansei de ser eu mesmo
Me deixa ser você
A vida não perdoa
Quem quer se reescrever
Cansei dessa rotina
Já não ouço o mesmo som
Cansei desse negócio
De tentar ser bom
Cansei dos meus retratos
Da falsa sensação
De ter você por perto
Não seu coração
Não me olhe desse jeito
Retoque seu batom
A sua vaidade
Faz parecer tão bom
Faz parecer tão bom
Faz parecer tão bom
Cansei dos mesmos rostos
Dessa repetição
Me deixa ser o centro
Da sua distração
Cansei dos inquilinos
Da minha solidão
Olhar você dormir
Não é compensação
Cansei da velha ideia
De segurar você
A reta do inseguro
Acaba na TV
Me entregue este controle
Me entregue a alma então
Amor você parece
Disco arranhado em vão
Pura repetição
Disco arranhado em vão
Pura repetição
Pura repetição
Me deixa ser você
A vida não perdoa
Quem quer se reescrever
Cansei dessa rotina
Já não ouço o mesmo som
Cansei desse negócio
De tentar ser bom
Cansei dos meus retratos
Da falsa sensação
De ter você por perto
Não seu coração
Não me olhe desse jeito
Retoque seu batom
A sua vaidade
Faz parecer tão bom
Faz parecer tão bom
Faz parecer tão bom
Cansei dos mesmos rostos
Dessa repetição
Me deixa ser o centro
Da sua distração
Cansei dos inquilinos
Da minha solidão
Olhar você dormir
Não é compensação
Cansei da velha ideia
De segurar você
A reta do inseguro
Acaba na TV
Me entregue este controle
Me entregue a alma então
Amor você parece
Disco arranhado em vão
Pura repetição
Disco arranhado em vão
Pura repetição
Pura repetição
Etiquetas: Silva
terça-feira, janeiro 14, 2014
People Are Strange
People are strange when you're a stranger
Faces look ugly when you're alone
Women seem wicked when you're unwanted
Streets are uneven when you're down
When you're strange
Faces come out of the rain
When you're strange
No one remembers your name
When you're strange
When you're strange
When you're strange
People are strange when you're a stranger
Faces look ugly when you're alone
Women seem wicked when you're unwanted
Streets are uneven when you're down
When you're strange
Faces come out of the rain
When you're strange
No one remembers your name
When you're strange
When you're strange
When you're strange
When you're strange
Faces come out of the rain
When you're strange
No one remembers your name
When you're strange
When you're strange
When you're strange
(Sérgio Godinho)
Faces look ugly when you're alone
Women seem wicked when you're unwanted
Streets are uneven when you're down
When you're strange
Faces come out of the rain
When you're strange
No one remembers your name
When you're strange
When you're strange
When you're strange
People are strange when you're a stranger
Faces look ugly when you're alone
Women seem wicked when you're unwanted
Streets are uneven when you're down
When you're strange
Faces come out of the rain
When you're strange
No one remembers your name
When you're strange
When you're strange
When you're strange
When you're strange
Faces come out of the rain
When you're strange
No one remembers your name
When you're strange
When you're strange
When you're strange
(Sérgio Godinho)
Etiquetas: Sérgio Godinho
segunda-feira, janeiro 13, 2014
quarta-feira, janeiro 08, 2014
Straight To Hell
If you can play on the fiddle
How's about a British jig and reel?
Speaking King's English in quotation
As railhead towns feel the steel mills rust water froze
In the generation
Clear as winter ice
This is your paradise
There ain't no need for ya
There ain't no need for ya
Go straight to Hell boys
Go straight to Hell boys
Y'wanna join in a chorus
Of the Amerasian blues?
When it's Christmas out in Ho Chi Minh City
Kiddie say papa papa papa papa papa-san take me home
See me got photo photo
Photograph of you and Mamma Mamma Mamma-san
Of you and Mamma Mamma Mamma-san
Lemme tell ya 'bout your blood bamboo kid.
It ain't Coca-Cola it's rice.
Straight to Hell, boys
Go straight to Hell, boys
Go straight to Hell, boys
Go straight to Hell, boys
Oh Papa-san
Please take me home
Oh Papa-san
Everybody they wanna go home
So Mamma-san said
You wanna play mind-crazed banjo
On the druggy-drag ragtime U.S.A.?
In Parkland International
Hey! Junkiedom U.S.A.
Where procaine proves the purest rock man groove
and rat poison
The volatile Molotov says
Go straight to Hell, boys
Go straight to Hell, boys
Can you cough it up loud and strong
The immigrants
They wanna sing all night long
It could be anywhere
Most likely could be any frontier
Any hemisphere
No man's land
Ain't no asylum here
King Solomon he never lived round here
Straight to Hell, boys
Go straight to Hell, boys
Go straight to Hell, boys
Go straight to Hell, boys
(The Pogues with Joe Strummer)
How's about a British jig and reel?
Speaking King's English in quotation
As railhead towns feel the steel mills rust water froze
In the generation
Clear as winter ice
This is your paradise
There ain't no need for ya
There ain't no need for ya
Go straight to Hell boys
Go straight to Hell boys
Y'wanna join in a chorus
Of the Amerasian blues?
When it's Christmas out in Ho Chi Minh City
Kiddie say papa papa papa papa papa-san take me home
See me got photo photo
Photograph of you and Mamma Mamma Mamma-san
Of you and Mamma Mamma Mamma-san
Lemme tell ya 'bout your blood bamboo kid.
It ain't Coca-Cola it's rice.
Straight to Hell, boys
Go straight to Hell, boys
Go straight to Hell, boys
Go straight to Hell, boys
Oh Papa-san
Please take me home
Oh Papa-san
Everybody they wanna go home
So Mamma-san said
You wanna play mind-crazed banjo
On the druggy-drag ragtime U.S.A.?
In Parkland International
Hey! Junkiedom U.S.A.
Where procaine proves the purest rock man groove
and rat poison
The volatile Molotov says
Go straight to Hell, boys
Go straight to Hell, boys
Can you cough it up loud and strong
The immigrants
They wanna sing all night long
It could be anywhere
Most likely could be any frontier
Any hemisphere
No man's land
Ain't no asylum here
King Solomon he never lived round here
Straight to Hell, boys
Go straight to Hell, boys
Go straight to Hell, boys
Go straight to Hell, boys
(The Pogues with Joe Strummer)
Etiquetas: Joe Strummer, The Pogues
terça-feira, janeiro 07, 2014
The Ghost Of Tom Joad
Men walkin’ ‘long the railroad tracks
Goin’ someplace, there’s no goin’ back
Highway Patrol choppers comin’ up over the ridge
Hot soup on a campfire under the bridge
Shelter line stretchin’ ‘round the corner
Welcome to the new world order
Families sleepin’ in their cars in the southwest
No home, no job, no peace, no rest
Well the highway is alive tonight
But nobody’s kiddin’ nobody about where it goes
I’m sittin’ down here in the campfire light
Searchin’ for the ghost of Tom Joad
He pulls a prayer book out of his sleepin’ bag
Preacher lights up a butt and takes a drag
Waitin’ for when the last shall be first and the first shall be last
In a cardboard box ‘neath the underpass
You got a one way ticket to the promised land
You got a hole in your belly and a gun in your hand
Sleeping on a pillow of solid rock
Bathin’ in the city’s aqueduct
The highway is alive tonight
But where it’s headed everybody knows
I’m sittin’ down here in the campfire light
Waitin’ on the ghost of Tom Joad
Now Tom said, “Mom, wherever there’s a cop beatin’ a guy
Wherever a hungry new born baby cries
Where there’s a fight ‘gainst the blood and hatred in the air
Look for me mom I’ll be there.
Wherever somebody’s fightin’ for a place to stand
For a decent job or a helpin’ hand.
Wherever somebody’s strugglin’ to be free,
Look in their eyes ma you’ll see me.”
Well the highway is alive tonight
Where it’s headed everybody knows
I’m sittin’ down here in the campfire light
With the ghost of old Tom Joad
Well the highway is alive tonight
But nobody’s kiddin’ nobody about where it goes
I’m sittin’ down here in the campfire light
With the ghost of old Tom Joad
With the ghost of old Tom Joad
With the ghost of old Tom Joad
(Bruce Springsteen with Tom Morello)
Goin’ someplace, there’s no goin’ back
Highway Patrol choppers comin’ up over the ridge
Hot soup on a campfire under the bridge
Shelter line stretchin’ ‘round the corner
Welcome to the new world order
Families sleepin’ in their cars in the southwest
No home, no job, no peace, no rest
Well the highway is alive tonight
But nobody’s kiddin’ nobody about where it goes
I’m sittin’ down here in the campfire light
Searchin’ for the ghost of Tom Joad
He pulls a prayer book out of his sleepin’ bag
Preacher lights up a butt and takes a drag
Waitin’ for when the last shall be first and the first shall be last
In a cardboard box ‘neath the underpass
You got a one way ticket to the promised land
You got a hole in your belly and a gun in your hand
Sleeping on a pillow of solid rock
Bathin’ in the city’s aqueduct
The highway is alive tonight
But where it’s headed everybody knows
I’m sittin’ down here in the campfire light
Waitin’ on the ghost of Tom Joad
Now Tom said, “Mom, wherever there’s a cop beatin’ a guy
Wherever a hungry new born baby cries
Where there’s a fight ‘gainst the blood and hatred in the air
Look for me mom I’ll be there.
Wherever somebody’s fightin’ for a place to stand
For a decent job or a helpin’ hand.
Wherever somebody’s strugglin’ to be free,
Look in their eyes ma you’ll see me.”
Well the highway is alive tonight
Where it’s headed everybody knows
I’m sittin’ down here in the campfire light
With the ghost of old Tom Joad
Well the highway is alive tonight
But nobody’s kiddin’ nobody about where it goes
I’m sittin’ down here in the campfire light
With the ghost of old Tom Joad
With the ghost of old Tom Joad
With the ghost of old Tom Joad
(Bruce Springsteen with Tom Morello)
Etiquetas: Bruce Springsteen, Tom Morello