The Who - Behind blue eyes
No one knows what it's like
To be the bad man
To be the sad man
Behind blue eyes
No one knows what it's like
To be hated
To be fated
To telling only lies
But my dreams
They aren't as empty
As my conscience seems to be
I have hours, only lonely
My love is vengeance
That's never free
No one knows what it's like
To feel these feelings
Like I do
And I blame you
No one bites back as hard
On their anger
None of my pain and woe
Can show through
But my dreams
They aren't as empty
As my conscience seems to be
I have hours, only lonely
My love is vengeance
That's never free
When my fist clenches, crack it open
Before I use it and lose my cool
When I smile, tell me some bad news
Before I laugh and act like a fool
If I swallow anything evil
Put your finger down my throat
If I shiver, please give me a blanket
Keep me warm, let me wear your coat
No one knows what it's like
To be the bad man
To be the sad man
Behind blue eyes
Grandes letras de la historia musical
Acojonante...
Boney M - El Lute
This is the story of el lute
A man who was born to be hunted like a wild animal
Because he was poor
But he refused to accept his fate
And today his honor has been restored
He was only nineteen
And he was sentenced to die
For something that somebody else did
And blamed on El Lute
Then they changed it to life
And so he could escape
From then on they chased him
And searched for him day and night
all over Spain
But the search was in vain for El Lute
He had only seen the dark side of life
The man they called El Lute
And he wanted a home just like you and like me
In a country where all would be free
So he taught himself to read and to write
It didn't help El Lute
He was one who had dared to escape overnight
They had to find El Lute
Soon the fame of his name
Spread like wild fire all over the land
With a price on his head
People still gave him bread
And they gave him a hand
For they knew he was right
And his fight was their fight
No one gave you a chance
In the Spain of those days
On the walls every place they had put up
The face of El Lute
And he robbed where he could just like once Robin Hood
They finally caught him and
That seemed the end
But they caught him in vain
Cause a change came for Spain
And El Lute
He had only seen the dark side of life
The man they called El Lute
And he wanted a home just like you and like me
In a country where all would be free
And then freedom really came to his land
And also to El Lute
Now he walks in the light of a sunny new day
The man they called El Lute
Boney M - El Lute
This is the story of el lute
A man who was born to be hunted like a wild animal
Because he was poor
But he refused to accept his fate
And today his honor has been restored
He was only nineteen
And he was sentenced to die
For something that somebody else did
And blamed on El Lute
Then they changed it to life
And so he could escape
From then on they chased him
And searched for him day and night
all over Spain
But the search was in vain for El Lute
He had only seen the dark side of life
The man they called El Lute
And he wanted a home just like you and like me
In a country where all would be free
So he taught himself to read and to write
It didn't help El Lute
He was one who had dared to escape overnight
They had to find El Lute
Soon the fame of his name
Spread like wild fire all over the land
With a price on his head
People still gave him bread
And they gave him a hand
For they knew he was right
And his fight was their fight
No one gave you a chance
In the Spain of those days
On the walls every place they had put up
The face of El Lute
And he robbed where he could just like once Robin Hood
They finally caught him and
That seemed the end
But they caught him in vain
Cause a change came for Spain
And El Lute
He had only seen the dark side of life
The man they called El Lute
And he wanted a home just like you and like me
In a country where all would be free
And then freedom really came to his land
And also to El Lute
Now he walks in the light of a sunny new day
The man they called El Lute
-
Mr. Blonde
- Ulema
- Mensajes: 11327
- Registrado: 06 May 2005 14:24
- Ubicación: Viva el asueto!
Un sample mil veces utilizado, del que desconozco su origen real, probablemente Mr. Fingers - Can You Feel It:
In the beginning, there was Jack, and Jack had a groove.
And from this groove came the groove of all grooves.
And while one day viciously throwing down on his box, Jack boldy declared,
"Let there be house!" and house music was born.
I am, you see,
I am the creator, and this is my house!
And, in my house there is only house music. But, I am not so
selfish because once you enter my house it then becomes OUR house and
OUR house music!" And, you see, no one can own house because
house music is a universal language, spoken and understood by all.
You see, house is a feeling that no one can understand really unless
you're deep into the vibe of house. House is an uncontrollable
desire to jack your body. And, as I told you before, this is
our house and our house music. And in every house, you
understand, there is a keeper. And, in this house, the keeper
is Jack. Now some of you who might wonder.
Who is Jack, and what is it that Jack does?
Jack is the one who gives you the power to jack your body!
Jack is the one who gives you the power to do the snake.
Jack is the one who gives you the key to the wiggly worm.
Jack is the one who learns you how to walk your body.
Jack is the one that can bring nations and nations of all
Jackers together under one house.
You may be black, you may be white; you may be Jew or Gentile.
It don't make difference in our House.
And this is fresh!
In the beginning, there was Jack, and Jack had a groove.
And from this groove came the groove of all grooves.
And while one day viciously throwing down on his box, Jack boldy declared,
"Let there be house!" and house music was born.
I am, you see,
I am the creator, and this is my house!
And, in my house there is only house music. But, I am not so
selfish because once you enter my house it then becomes OUR house and
OUR house music!" And, you see, no one can own house because
house music is a universal language, spoken and understood by all.
You see, house is a feeling that no one can understand really unless
you're deep into the vibe of house. House is an uncontrollable
desire to jack your body. And, as I told you before, this is
our house and our house music. And in every house, you
understand, there is a keeper. And, in this house, the keeper
is Jack. Now some of you who might wonder.
Who is Jack, and what is it that Jack does?
Jack is the one who gives you the power to jack your body!
Jack is the one who gives you the power to do the snake.
Jack is the one who gives you the key to the wiggly worm.
Jack is the one who learns you how to walk your body.
Jack is the one that can bring nations and nations of all
Jackers together under one house.
You may be black, you may be white; you may be Jew or Gentile.
It don't make difference in our House.
And this is fresh!
| (• ◡•)| (❍ᴥ❍ʋ)
Placebo- "You don´t care about Us"
If it's a bad day, you try to suffocate.
Another memory... scarred.
If it's a bad case, then you accelerate,
you're in the getaway... car.
You don't care about us... oh oh.
You don't care about us... oh oh.
You don't care about us... oh oh
You don't care about us.
If it's a bad case, you're on the rampage.
Another memory... scarred.
You're at the wrong place, you're on the back page,
you're in the getaway... car.
You don't care about us... oh oh.
You don't care about us... oh oh.
You don't care about us... oh oh
You don't care about us.
It's your age, It's my rage.
It's your age, It's my rage.
You're too complicated, we should separate it.
You're just confiscating, you're exasperating.
This degeneration, mental masturbation.
Think I'll leave it all behind, save this bleeding heart of mine.
It's a matter of trust.
It's a matter of trust.
It's a matter of trust.
It's a matter of trust.
Because..
You don't care about us...
You don't care about us...
You don't care about us...
You don't care about us.
It's your age, It's my rage.
It's your age, It's my rage.
If it's a bad day, you try to suffocate.
Another memory... scarred.
If it's a bad case, then you accelerate,
you're in the getaway... car.
You don't care about us... oh oh.
You don't care about us... oh oh.
You don't care about us... oh oh
You don't care about us.
If it's a bad case, you're on the rampage.
Another memory... scarred.
You're at the wrong place, you're on the back page,
you're in the getaway... car.
You don't care about us... oh oh.
You don't care about us... oh oh.
You don't care about us... oh oh
You don't care about us.
It's your age, It's my rage.
It's your age, It's my rage.
You're too complicated, we should separate it.
You're just confiscating, you're exasperating.
This degeneration, mental masturbation.
Think I'll leave it all behind, save this bleeding heart of mine.
It's a matter of trust.
It's a matter of trust.
It's a matter of trust.
It's a matter of trust.
Because..
You don't care about us...
You don't care about us...
You don't care about us...
You don't care about us.
It's your age, It's my rage.
It's your age, It's my rage.
-
Barbie Superstar
- Warrilla
- Mensajes: 555
- Registrado: 24 Feb 2003 17:04
- Ubicación: Sepultada bajo mis complementos
"Princesa", de Los Secretos (compuesta por Serrat):
Tú no, princesa, tú no.
Tú eres distinta.
No eres como las demás
chicas del barrio.
Así los hombres te miran
como te miran.
Así murmura envidioso
el vecindario
Tú no, princesa, tú no.
Tú eres la rosa
que fue a nacer entre cardos
como revancha
a un arrabal despiadado
en donde el día
se ocupa de echar por tierra
toda esperanza
Tú no has de ver consumida
cómo la vida
pasó de largo,
maltratada y mal querida,
sin ver cumplida
ni una promesa,
le dice mientras
cepilla el pelo
de su princesa.
Tú no, princesa, tú no.
tú no has nacido
para pasar las fatigas
que yo pasé
sacandole el dobladillo
a un miserable
salario que no alcanza
a fin de mes.
Tú no, princesa, tú no.
Por Dios lo juro:
tu no andarás de rodillas
fregando pisos,
no acabarás hecha un zarrio
como tu madre,
cansada de quitar mierda
y de parir hijos.
Tú saldrás de esta cochambre
de muertos de hambre.
Ya me imagino
la carade las vecinas cuando aparezcas
en limusina
a por esta vieja,
le dice mientras
cepilla el pelo
de su princesa.
Tú no, princesa, tú no.
Vuelve temprano...
Y la sigue un paso atrás
hasta la calle,
planchándole con la palma
de la mano
una arruga que el vestido
le hace en el talle.
Y como quien ve a la Virgen
subir al cielo
la ve alejarse
camino a su primer casting
para un anuncio
en televisión.
La nena vale
la nena estudia
danza moderna
y declamación.
Y una canción que no puedo dejar de escuchar, o cómo no se puede decir más con menos palabras:
Territorios libres - Loquillo:
No servir
No gobernar
No retroceder
Ni un paso atrás
Sin líder a quien adorar
Ni izquierda ni derecha
que me obligue a avanzar
Desconfiado como un animal
que defiende su espacio vital
Porque mi patria son sus caderas
Su labios rojos mi bandera
Mi destino escrito en su mirada
Territorios libres
No sacrificar nada personal
y por el poder jamás pelear
Quiero celebrar triunfos en soledad
junto a las proezas de la gente normal.
Barbieletrista.
Tú no, princesa, tú no.
Tú eres distinta.
No eres como las demás
chicas del barrio.
Así los hombres te miran
como te miran.
Así murmura envidioso
el vecindario
Tú no, princesa, tú no.
Tú eres la rosa
que fue a nacer entre cardos
como revancha
a un arrabal despiadado
en donde el día
se ocupa de echar por tierra
toda esperanza
Tú no has de ver consumida
cómo la vida
pasó de largo,
maltratada y mal querida,
sin ver cumplida
ni una promesa,
le dice mientras
cepilla el pelo
de su princesa.
Tú no, princesa, tú no.
tú no has nacido
para pasar las fatigas
que yo pasé
sacandole el dobladillo
a un miserable
salario que no alcanza
a fin de mes.
Tú no, princesa, tú no.
Por Dios lo juro:
tu no andarás de rodillas
fregando pisos,
no acabarás hecha un zarrio
como tu madre,
cansada de quitar mierda
y de parir hijos.
Tú saldrás de esta cochambre
de muertos de hambre.
Ya me imagino
la carade las vecinas cuando aparezcas
en limusina
a por esta vieja,
le dice mientras
cepilla el pelo
de su princesa.
Tú no, princesa, tú no.
Vuelve temprano...
Y la sigue un paso atrás
hasta la calle,
planchándole con la palma
de la mano
una arruga que el vestido
le hace en el talle.
Y como quien ve a la Virgen
subir al cielo
la ve alejarse
camino a su primer casting
para un anuncio
en televisión.
La nena vale
la nena estudia
danza moderna
y declamación.
Y una canción que no puedo dejar de escuchar, o cómo no se puede decir más con menos palabras:
Territorios libres - Loquillo:
No servir
No gobernar
No retroceder
Ni un paso atrás
Sin líder a quien adorar
Ni izquierda ni derecha
que me obligue a avanzar
Desconfiado como un animal
que defiende su espacio vital
Porque mi patria son sus caderas
Su labios rojos mi bandera
Mi destino escrito en su mirada
Territorios libres
No sacrificar nada personal
y por el poder jamás pelear
Quiero celebrar triunfos en soledad
junto a las proezas de la gente normal.
Barbieletrista.
Carta al Rey Melchor
Letra y música: Albert Pla.
________________________________________
Mi majestad:
Espero no ofenderlo ni irritarlo majestad
pero mi deseo es casarme con su hija
quizás sea una osadía pedir la mano de su hija
no me creáis oportunista ni un playboy mi majestad
no pretendo enriquecerme ni quiero palacios ni pajes ni yates
no quiero ser duque o tener chamberlanes
no deseo aprovecharme ni robarle nada
es cuestión de amor
Que estoy loco de amor por la princesa
entiéndalo rey mío por favor compréndalo
aunque sea soberano supongo que será humano
como el resto de sus siervos también tendrá sentimientos
yo se que vos realmente también os cagáis
y folláis y sudáis como yo esto es real
así que présteme un poquito de atención
le hablaré francamente frente a frente majestad
Quizá yo no sea el yerno que soñó mi majestad
nunca tuve dinero ni soy conde o caballero
no llego ni a hidalgo ciudadano raso
mi estirpe no es noble pero mi nobleza
me obliga a decirle la verdad
Sería mentirle si digo que tengo respeto por la monarquía
siempre me he cagado en las dinastías
y en las patrias Putas la banderas sucias
los reinos de mierda y la sangre azul
mi majestad
ahora es el real decreto del corazón mi majestad
que me arrastra y que reniegue por amor mi majestad
pues la fe mueve montañas el amor remueve el alma
Y hasta el ser más consecuente ante el amor pierde su honor
Yo por amor soy capaz de mandar a la mierda
mis firmes principios de republicano
cambio de camisa y rindo pleitesía a la monarquía
que viva el amor que me convirtió en su esbirro majestad
solo pensar que quisierais ser mi suegro majestad
yo ya le adoro yo le adulo y hasta le beso el culo
le prometo ser bueno un digno yerno majestad
si me caso me transformo como en ese cuento
aquel sapo que por un beso se convirtió en príncipe encantado
y así por un beso de su princesita
también y me vuelvo en todo lo que usted quiera
seré su súbdito amado su sumiso esclavo
su obediente criado su subordinado y devoto lacayo
le juro ante dios y ante el cielo y la Biblia
Que viva el rey
viva el rey
que viva la monarquía
________________________________________
Mi majestad:
Espero no ofenderlo ni irritarlo majestad
pero mi deseo es casarme con su hija
quizás sea una osadía pedir la mano de su hija
no me creáis oportunista ni un playboy mi majestad
no pretendo enriquecerme ni quiero palacios ni pajes ni yates
no quiero ser duque o tener chamberlanes
no deseo aprovecharme ni robarle nada
es cuestión de amor
Que estoy loco de amor por la princesa
entiéndalo rey mío por favor compréndalo
aunque sea soberano supongo que será humano
como el resto de sus siervos también tendrá sentimientos
yo se que vos realmente también os cagáis
y folláis y sudáis como yo esto es real
así que présteme un poquito de atención
le hablaré francamente frente a frente majestad
Quizá yo no sea el yerno que soñó mi majestad
nunca tuve dinero ni soy conde o caballero
no llego ni a hidalgo ciudadano raso
mi estirpe no es noble pero mi nobleza
me obliga a decirle la verdad
Sería mentirle si digo que tengo respeto por la monarquía
siempre me he cagado en las dinastías
y en las patrias Putas la banderas sucias
los reinos de mierda y la sangre azul
mi majestad
ahora es el real decreto del corazón mi majestad
que me arrastra y que reniegue por amor mi majestad
pues la fe mueve montañas el amor remueve el alma
Y hasta el ser más consecuente ante el amor pierde su honor
Yo por amor soy capaz de mandar a la mierda
mis firmes principios de republicano
cambio de camisa y rindo pleitesía a la monarquía
que viva el amor que me convirtió en su esbirro majestad
solo pensar que quisierais ser mi suegro majestad
yo ya le adoro yo le adulo y hasta le beso el culo
le prometo ser bueno un digno yerno majestad
si me caso me transformo como en ese cuento
aquel sapo que por un beso se convirtió en príncipe encantado
y así por un beso de su princesita
también y me vuelvo en todo lo que usted quiera
seré su súbdito amado su sumiso esclavo
su obediente criado su subordinado y devoto lacayo
le juro ante dios y ante el cielo y la Biblia
Que viva el rey
viva el rey
que viva la monarquía
Última edición por MELCHOR el 12 Ene 2007 03:42, editado 1 vez en total.
Hombre, no es por recalcarte lo obvio que eres nuevo y a lo mejor llevas platino dentro, pero el que te ha llamado he sido yo y el que ha acudido cual mendigo al monte de Piedad, querido, has sido tú.
Sacas las pelotas y haz algún truco de magia.
Sacas las pelotas y haz algún truco de magia.
Si à cinquante ans, on n'a pas une Rolex, on a quand même raté sa vie!