A pleno sol: WARREN ZEVON - Werewolves Of London 1982

WARREN ZEVON - Werewolves Of London 1982

jueves, 10 de abril de 2014

Otro grande se nos fue, antes que Lou, pero compartirán destino. Ésta es una de sus últimas entrevistas... David Letterman: “Warren, ¿tienes otra visión de la vida y la muerte desde que sabes que estás enfermo de cáncer?” Warren Zevon: “No creo, excepto que ahora sé cuando debemos disfrutar de cada sandwich”. Su himno de hockey "Hit somebody", clásicos como "Sentimental hygiene" y "Heartache spoken here" y estos hombres-lobos de Londres (Kevin Rowland nunca se lo agradecerá suficientemente en "One of these things", pero eso será otra entrada...) definen su música.

I don't like Mondays

The silicon chip inside her headGets switched to overloadAnd nobodys gonna go to school todayShes gonna make them stay at homeAnd daddy doesnt understand itHe always said she was good as goldAnd he can see no reasons'Cos there are no reasonsWhat reason do you need to be show-ow-ow-ow-own?Tell me whyI dont like MondaysTell me whyI dont like MondaysTell me why I dont like MondaysI wanna shoo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oot the whole day downThe Telex machine is kept so clean And it types to a waiting worldAnd mother feels so shockedFathers world is rockedAnd their thoughts turn to their own little girlSweet 16 aint that peachy keenNow that aint so neat to admit defeatThey can see no reasons'Cos there are no reasonsWhat reasons do you need?Oh Oh Oh OhTell me whyI dont like MondaysTell me whyI dont like MondaysTell me why I dont like MondaysI wanna shoo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oot The whole day down, down, down, shoot it all downAnd all the playing's stopped in the playground nowShe wants to play with the toys a whileAnd school's out early and soon we'll be learningAnd the lesson today is how to dieAnd then the bullhorn cracklesAnd the captain tackles(With the problems of the how's and why's)And he can see no reasons'Cos there are no reasonsWhat reason do you need to die, die?Oh Oh OhAnd the silicon chip inside her headGets switched to overloadAnd nobodys gonna go to school todayShes gonna make them stay at homeAnd daddy doesnt understand itHe always said she was good as goldAnd he can see no reasons'Cos there are no reasonsWhat reason do you need to be show-ow-ow-ow-own?Tell me whyI dont like MondaysTell me whyI dont like MondaysTell me whyI dont like I dont like (Tell me why)I dont like MondaysTell me whyI dont likeI dont like (Tell me why)I dont like MondaysTell me whyI don't like MondaysI wanna shoo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oot the whole day down

W EREWOLVES OF LONDON by Warren Zevon

I saw a werewolf with a Chinese menu in his handWalking through the streets of Soho in the rainHe was looking for a place called Lee Ho Fook'sGonna get a big dish of beef chow meinAaoooooo!Werewolves of London!Aaoooooo! Aaoooooo!If you hear him howling around your kitchen doorBetter not let him inLittle old lady got mutilated late last nightWerewolves of London againAsoooooo!Werewolves of London!Aaoooooo! Aaoooooo!He's the hairy-handed gent who ran amuck in KentLately he's been overheard in MayfairBetter stay away from himHe'll rip your lungs out, JimI'd like to meet his tailorAaoooooo!Werewolves of London!Aaoooooo! Aaoooooo!Well, I saw Lon Chaney walking with the QueenDoing the Werewolves of LondonI saw Lon Chaney, Jr. walking with the QueenDoing the Werewolves of LondonI saw a werewolf drinking a pina colada at Trader Vic'sAnd his hair was perfectAaoooooo!Werewolves of London!Aaoooooo! Aaoooooo!

Pale Blue Eyes by L. Reed

Sometimes I feel so happy,Sometimes I feel so sad.Sometimes I feel so
happy,But mostly you just make me mad.Baby, you just make me
mad.Linger on, your pale blue eyes.Linger on, your pale blue
eyes.Thought of you as my mountain top,Thought of you as my
peak.Thought of you as everything,I've had but couldn't keep.I've
had but couldn't keep.Linger on, your pale blue eyes.Linger on, your
pale blue eyes.If I could make the world as pure and strange as what I
see,I'd put you in the mirror,I put in front of me.I put in front of
me.Linger on, your pale blue eyes.Linger on, your pale blue
eyes.Skip a life completely.Stuff it in a cup.She said, Money is
like us in time,It lies, but can't stand up.Down for you is
up."Linger on, your pale blue eyes.Linger on, your pale blue
eyes.It was good what we did yesterday.And I'd do it once
again.The fact that you are married,Only proves, you're my best
friend.But it's truly, truly a sin.Linger on, your pale blue
eyes.Linger on, your pale blue eyes.

Si... Joseph Rudyard Kipling

Si la obra de tu vida puedes ver destrozada
y sin decir palabra, volverla a comenzar;
o perder en un día la ganancia de ciento
sin un gesto ni un suspiro...

Si puedes ser amante y no estar loco de amor,
si consigues ser fuerte sin dejar de ser tierno,
y sintiéndote odiado, sin odiar a tu vez,
luchar y defenderte...

Si puedes soportar que falseen tus palabras
los pícaros para excitar a los tontos:
y oir cómo sus lenguas falaces te calumnian
sin que tú mismo mientas...

Si puedes seguir digno aunque seas popular;
si consigues ser pueblo y dar consejo a los reyes;
y a todos tus amigos amar como a un hermano
sin que ninguno te absorba...

Si sabes meditar, observar, conocer,
sin llegar a ser nunca destructor o escéptico;
soñar, mas no dejar que el sueño te domine;
pensar, sin ser sólo un pensador...

Si puedes ser severo sin llegar a la cólera;
si puedes ser audaz sin pecar de imprudente;
si consigues ser bueno y logras ser un sabio
sin ser moral ni pedante...

Si alcanzas el triunfo después de la derrota
y acoges con igual calma esas dos mentiras;
si puedes conservar tu valor, tu cabeza
cuando la pierdan otros...

Entonces, los Reyes, los Dioses, la Suerte y la Victoria
serán ya para siempre tus sumisos esclavos
y, lo que vale más que la Gloria y los Reyes:
serás Hombre, hijo mío.

A pleno sol

WARREN ZEVON - Werewolves Of London 1982

jueves, 10 de abril de 2014

0 comentarios:

A pleno sol

I don't like Mondays

W EREWOLVES OF LONDON by Warren Zevon

Pale Blue Eyes by L. Reed

El elogio de la sombra

Si... Joseph Rudyard Kipling

visitas

Enlaces que valen la pena