I said it once before And I said it with no fear For most of us here and now The end is very near
But for regrets This is neither the time or the place Better that we got out with a little bit of style And a little bit of grace Like a climatic ending scene Of an epic motion picture We are all beautiful losers And we are all beautiful sinners In this global life drama We are indeed among the last Both planet and inhabitants Destined for fatal crash Better to sing and shout Then to say prayers Because we are not the audience We are the players.
Tirem-nos a terra em que nascemos, Onde crescemos E onde descobrimos pela primeira vez que o mundo é assim: um tabuleiro de xadrez...
tirem-nos a luz do sol que os aquece, a lua lírica do shingombela nas noites mulatas da selva moçambicana (essa lua que nos semeou no coração a poesia que encontramos na vida) tirem-nos a palhota – humilde cubata onde vivemos e amamos, tirem-nos a machamba que nos dá o pão, tirem-nos o calor do lume (que nos é quase tudo) – mas não nos tirem a música!
Podem desterrar-nos, Levar-nos Para longes terras, Vender-nos como mercadoria, Acorrentar-nos À terra, do sol à lua e da lua ao sol, – mas seremos sempre livres se nos deixarem a música!
Que onde estiver nossa canção, Mesmo escravos, senhores seremos; E mesmo mortos viveremos. E no nosso lamento escravo Estará a terra onde nascemos, A luz do nosso sol, A lua dos shingombelas, O calor do lume, A palhota onde vivemos, A machamba que os dá o pão!
E tudo será novamente nosso, Ainda que de cadeia nos pés E azorrague no dorso... E o nosso queixume Será uma libertação Derramada em nosso canto!
– por isso pedimos, de joelhos pedimos: tirem-nos tudo... mas não nos tirem a vida, não nos levem a musica!
You will not be able to stay home, brother. You will not be able to plug in, turn on and cop out. You will not be able to lose yourself on skag and skip, Skip out for beer during commercials, Because the revolution will not be televised.
The revolution will not be televised. The revolution will not be brought to you by Xerox In 4 parts without commercial interruptions. The revolution will not show you pictures of Nixon blowing a bugle and leading a charge by John Mitchell, General Abrams and Spiro Agnew to eat hog maws confiscated from a Harlem sanctuary. The revolution will not be televised.
The revolution will not be brought to you by the Schaefer Award Theatre and will not star Natalie Woods and Steve McQueen or Bullwinkle and Julia. The revolution will not give your mouth sex appeal. The revolution will not get rid of the nubs. The revolution will not make you look five pounds thinner, because the revolution will not be televised, Brother.
There will be no pictures of you and Willie May pushing that shopping cart down the block on the dead run, or trying to slide that color television into a stolen ambulance. NBC will not be able predict the winner at 8:32 or report from 29 districts. The revolution will not be televised.
There will be no pictures of pigs shooting down brothers in the instant replay. There will be no pictures of pigs shooting down brothers in the instant replay. There will be no pictures of Whitney Young being run out of Harlem on a rail with a brand new process. There will be no slow motion or still life of Roy Wilkens strolling through Watts in a Red, Black and Green liberation jumpsuit that he had been saving For just the proper occasion.
Green Acres, The Beverly Hillbillies, and Hooterville Junction will no longer be so damned relevant, and women will not care if Dick finally gets down with Jane on Search for Tomorrow because Black people will be in the street looking for a brighter day. The revolution will not be televised.
There will be no highlights on the eleven o'clock news and no pictures of hairy armed women liberationists and Jackie Onassis blowing her nose. The theme song will not be written by Jim Webb, Francis Scott Key, nor sung by Glen Campbell, Tom Jones, Johnny Cash, Englebert Humperdink, or the Rare Earth. The revolution will not be televised.
The revolution will not be right back after a message bbout a white tornado, white lightning, or white people. You will not have to worry about a dove in your bedroom, a tiger in your tank, or the giant in your toilet bowl. The revolution will not go better with Coke. The revolution will not fight the germs that may cause bad breath. The revolution will put you in the driver's seat.
The revolution will not be televised, will not be televised, will not be televised, will not be televised. The revolution will be no re-run brothers; The revolution will be live.
But I am broken and torn with halos at my feet And with your purest light why don’t you shine on me Oh, I should have been an angel, but I’m too dumb to speak
"Neste Natal não quero que gastes muito dinheiro comigo, portanto vou-te pedir uma prenda simbólica de custo reduzido mas que me fará, e aos que me rodeiam, muito feliz!
O que eu te vou pedir custa entre 1 a 2€uros e encontra-se em diferentes papelarias e outros estabelecimentos deste pequeno país chamado Portugal e por vezes até na Europa.
Gostava portanto de te pedir um bilhete premiado com o 1º (... vá 1º ou 2º) prémio do €uromilhões ou, se não for possível um bilhete premiado do totoloto. Julgo que te ficará em conta!"[F]
"Imagine if Sigur Ros and Architecture in Helsinki were planning on recording an album together, but the studio they was already double booked! Therefore they decided to record it in on of the member's bedroom on his cassette player. Just then Kahimi Karie called, so they said "Oh great, why don't you come over too? We'll have a slumber party tonight," and she said, "Ok." They started recording but it was getting late and they were afraid that their neighbors might complain if they were too loud, so they replaced all guitar parts with music boxes. About that time Kahimi showed up and said "Let's order a pizza, I'm starving." Next they were eating the pizza they got thirsty, but the only thing they had in the refrigerator was milk. Milk has that thing in it that makes you sleepy, so they all got a little sleepy, and then singer guy from Sigur Ros decided his voice was too high for this project, so he asked Kahimi to sing. She did and it sounded great! And then they all fell asleep. The End." - Shawn James Seymour
Excelentes melodias para relaxar e adormecer (muitos sonhos tive ao som de pajama pop),bela surpresa descoberta por acaso no início do ano, um álbum que me enche as medidas. Os 3 primeiros álbuns encontram-se no Folktronica.