thedreamisneverover

martedì 30 marzo 2010

Mangiaparole per affamati di cultura e… non solo

giovedì 8 gennaio 2009

Loosers!?!!?

THE WRESTLER
Two, three, four

Have you ever seen a one trick pony in the field so happy and free?

If you've ever seen a one trick pony then you've seen me

Have you ever seen a one-legged dog making his way down the street?

If you've ever seen a one-legged dog then you've seen me

Then you've seen me, I come and stand at every door

Then you've seen me, I always leave with less than I had before

Then you've seen me, bet I can make you smile when the blood, it hits the floor

Tell me, friend, can you ask for anything more?

Tell me can you ask for anything more?

Have you ever seen a scarecrow filled with nothing but dust and wheat?

If you've ever seen that scarecrow then you've seen me

Have you ever seen a one-armed man punching at nothing but the breeze?

If you've ever seen a one-armed man then you've seen me

Then you've seen me, I come and stand at every door

Then you've seen me, I always leave with less than I had before

Then you've seen me, bet I can make you smile when the blood, it hits the floor

Tell me, friend, can you ask for anything more?

Tell me can you ask for anything more?

These things that have comforted me, I drive away

This place that is my home I cannot stay

My only faith's in the broken bones and bruises I display

Have you ever seen a one-legged man trying to dance his way free?

If you've ever seen a one-legged man then you've seen me

mercoledì 3 dicembre 2008

"So if I can shoot rabbits then I can shoot fascists."

If You Tolerate This Your Children Will Be Next

Manic Street Preachers

The future teaches you to be alone

The present to be afraid and cold

"So if I can shoot rabbits then I can shoot fascists."

Bullets for your brain today

But we'll forget it all again

Monuments put from pen to paper

Turns me into a gutless wonder.

And if you tolerate this then your children will be next

Will be next, Will be next, Will be next.

Gravity keeps my head down

Or is it maybe shame

At being so young and being so vain.

Holes in your head today

But I'm a pacifist

I've walked La Ramblas but not with real intent.

And if you tolerate this then your children will be next

Will be next, Will be next, Will be next.

And on the street tonight-

An old man plays with newspaper cuttings of his glory days.

And if you tolerate this then your children will be next

Will be next, Will be next, Will be next.

venerdì 14 novembre 2008

http://www.facebook.com/people/Mimmo_Gaeta/1486270559

venerdì 24 ottobre 2008

NO MORE WARS- basta guerre

The Hitter
Bruce Springsteen "Devils & Dust" (2005)

Come to the door ma and unlock the chain.

Well I was just passin' through and got caught in the rain.

There's nothing that I want, nothin' that you need say.

Just let me lie down for a while and I'll be on my way.

I was no more than a kid when you put me on the Southern Queen.

With the police on my back I fled to New Orleans.

Well I fought in the dockyards for the the money that I made.

And the fight was my home and any blood was my trade.

Baton Rouge, Ponchatoula, and Lafayette town.

They payed me the moon, ma, to knock the man down.

Well I did what I did, yeah it come easily.

For as know ma, restraint and mercy were always strangers to me.

I fought champion Jack Thompson in a field full of mud.

Rain poured through the tent canvas and mixed with our blood.

In the twelfth, slipped my tongue over my broken jaw.

And I pounded his body into the floor.

Well the bell rang and rang and still I kept on.

'Til I felt my glove leather slip 'tween his skin and bone.

And the women and the money came fast and the days I lost track.

The women red, the money green, but the numbers were black.

I fought for the men in their silk suits to lay down their bets.

Well I took my good share, ma, I have no regrets.

I took the fix at the State armory with big Diamond Don

Well from high in the rafters I watched myself fall.

He raised his arms, stomach twisted, and the sky it went black.

I stuffed my bag with their good money, ma, and never looked back.

Understand in the end, ma, every man plays the game.

Well if you know anyone different then speak out his name.

Ma, if my face now, now you don't recognise.

Well just open the door and look into your dark eyes.

I ask of you nothin', not a kiss not a smile

Just open the door and let me lie down for a while.

Now the gray rain is fallin' and my ring fightin's done.

So in the work fields and alleys, I take them who'll come.

If you're a better man than me then just step to the line.

Show me your money and speak out your crime.

There's nothin' I want, ma, nuthin' that you need say.

Just let me lie for a while and I'll be on my way.

Well tonight in Stockyard, a man draws a circle in the dirt.

I move to the center and take off my shirt.

I study him for the cuts, the scars, the pain, no time can erase.

I move hard to the left and I strike to the face

IL PICCHIATORE

Vieni alla porta, mamma, e togli il chiavistello.Passavo qui vicino e mi ha sorpreso la pioggia.Non voglio niente da te, e non c'è bisogno che tu dica niente.Permettimi di riposare un poco, e poi me ne andrò per i fatti miei.Ero solo un bambino quando mi imbarcasti sulla Southern Queen.Arrivai a New Orleans con la polizia alle calcagna.Da allora ho combattuto nei docks del porto per i soldi che ho guadagnato.Ed il combattimento era la mia casa ed il sangue la mia "bottega".Baton Rouge, Ponchatoula e Lafayette.Mi hanno pagato la luna, mamma, per mettere l'uomo al tappeto.Ho fatto quel che ho fatto, ed era maledettamente facile farlo, per me.Per quanto ne so, mamma, pietà e misericordia non mi appartengono.Mi sono battuto contro Jack Thompson in un campo pieno di fango.La pioggia colava attraverso il tendone e si mischiava al nostro sangue.Al dodicesimo round, ho fatto scivolare la lingua sul mio labbro spaccato.Ed il suo corpo, sotto i miei colpi, è crollato sul terreno.E il gong ha suonato ed ha suonato, e lo sento ancora.Come ho sentito il mio guantone che si infilava fra la sua pelle e l'osso.E le donne ed il denaro sono arrivati velocemente ed ho perso il senso deigiorni.Le donne rosse, i soldi verdi, ma i giorni erano neri.Ho combattuto per far perdere la scommessa a degli uomini in calzoncinidi seta.Ho avuto la mia parte, mamma, e non ho rimpianti.Truccai l'incontro con big diamond don allo "state armory"Vidi me stesso cadere giù dalle vette del ringLui alzò le braccia al cielo, lo stomaco mi si contorceva, ed il cielò diventò nero.Incassai la mia borsa con tutti quei bei soldi, mamma, e non mi sono piùvoltato indietro.Alla fine, ogni uomo gioca il suo gioco - capisci mamma?Se conosci qualcuno che sia diverso, allora fammi il suo nome.Mamma, se adesso non riconosci la mia facciaapri la porta e guarda fin dentro i tuoi occhi scuri.Non ti chiedo niente, non un bacio, non un sorriso.Apri solo la porta e lasciami riposare un poco.Fuori cade una pioggia grigia ed io ho finito con il ring.Così, ora, nei campi di lavoro e nei vicoli, affronto chi ci vuol stare."Se credi di essere un uomo migliore di me, allora oltrepassa la linea.Mostrami i tuoi soldi e racconta il tuo delitto."Non c'è niente che io voglia, mamma, non devi dire niente.Lasciami riposare un poco, e poi me ne andrò per i fatti miei.Stanotte nel mattatoio un uomo traccerà un cerchio per terra nella polvere.Io andrò al centro del cerchio e mi toglierò la camicia.Studierò le sue ferite, le cicatrici, il dolore che il tempo non cancella.Farò uno scatto a sinistra e lo colpirò al viso.