: Lass mich schlafen ich bewege mich nicht ich bewege nichts ich mache keine Fehler ich finde nicht zuruck in diese Arme ich warte genau hier und du
: Un biglietto del tram, mille lire di film e cosi, se ne va, la tua libera uscita, il tuo colpo di vita in citta, se ne va. Sotto la luna le donne
: Cinguantotto, cinque piu otto fa tredici avanzo di due mosche, tredici porta merda, e la mosca si conserva, Cinquantotto! La mosca va nella merda
: 13 went across her face 18 sprayed upon her hair 6 pooled in her belly button 21 slipped down the crack of her ass
The way you talk, the things you've done Make me wish I was the only one Who could ever have made you laugh now? Who could have made you, made you want
You're everything That's why I cling to you When I emerge My thoughts converge to you To you The world is so small Compared to you And everybody's wrong
Baby took me out last night Got a little Cadillac bite Shook me about, inside out Didn't get home till light She's a grower, a goer You gotta get to
In this cell that is ours there is no pity No sunrise on the cold plain that is our soul No beckoning to a warm horizon The sun shall never greet my eyes
... a lamb widows and humans and pits and demons and boils and sleepwalkers and bats and widows and humans and pits and demons and demons and demons
[Trucker:} "Hey kid, you looking for a lift? Get on up here How's it going good buddy?" I nailed ducks to the wall Kept my heart in dark ruins I built
On and on Born in a mining town in ?58 When black and white T.V. was up to date and men were still around Who fought for freedom, stood their ground
Frickley in South Yorkshire, a small mining town Where once the riot coppers beat the pickets to the ground Has a football team, and a stand full of fans
(Jigga Jigga!) I was looking to see some dreams drip from your fingers I was working in that lonely place where memory lingers If there were words, if
We bought a yellow towtruck To drive it round and round our neighbourhood We pass it round Pass around this plumber's friend Pass it round Pass around
(John Donne, 1573-1631) some man unworthy to be possesor of old or new love himself being false or weak thought his pain and shame would be lesser from
(B. Bonvoisin / N. Krief) Je marchais, j'avancais, je trainais ma degaine J'avancais sans savoir, sans idee de pouvoir Tu marchais, t'avancais, t'avancais
(B. Bonvoisin / N. Krief / M. Chemlek / Y. Brusco) Je voulais faire le point de quatre ans d'existence C'est assez difficile trop de moments intenses
