segnalazioni
la cover di rusty cage.
la cover di personal jesus.
johnny was fukin rock’n roll
The beast in me Is caged by frail and fragile bars Restless by day And by night rants and rages at the stars God help the beast in me
The beast in me Has had to learn to live with pain And how to shelter from the rain And in the twinkling of an eye Might have to be restrained God help the beast in me
Sometimes it tries to kid me That it’s just a teddy bear And even somehow manage to vanish in the air And that is when I must beware Of the beast in me that everybody knows They’ve seen him out dressed in my clothes Patently unclear It it’s New York or New Year God help the beast in me
The beast in me
cose dette in rete
«La matematica è una scienza meravigliosa, ma non ha ancora trovato il modo di dividere un triciclo fra tre ragazzini.» thomas wilson
alle 23.50 di questa sera ho visto john lennon in autogrill.
«Certe persone chiudono un occhio soltanto per poter mirare meglio.» billy wilder
la morte non mi ha ancora raggiunto perchè è incolonnata da maggio sulla milano meda.
I funerali di Fidel Castro saranno di una noia terrificante.
A parte i venti minuti iniziali in cui Maradona palleggerà con un pompelmo.
«Per entrare nella migliore società, oggi, bisogna servire buone colazioni alla gente, divertirla o scioccarla: nient’altro.» oscar wilde
I got rid of the shackles that bound me and the guards that were always around me
There were tears on the mail mother wrote me in jail
But I’m free from the chain gang now
All the years I was known and respected ’til one day I was wrongly suspected
I was shackled in chains in a cold freezin’ rain but I’m free from the chain gang now
[Guitar]
All the years I was known by a number how I kept my mind is a wonder
But like a bird in a tree I got my liberty and I’m free from the chain gang now
I got rid of the shackles that bound me and the guards that were always around me
There were tears on the mail mother sent me in jail
But I’m free from the chain gang now
There were tears on the mail mother wrote me in jail
But I’m free from the chain gang now
Well, you wonder why I always dress in black,
Why you never see bright colors on my back,
And why does my appearance seem to have a somber tone.
Well, there’s a reason for the things that I have on.
I wear the black for the poor and the beaten down,
Livin’ in the hopeless, hungry side of town,
I wear it for the prisoner who has long paid for his crime,
But is there because he’s a victim of the times.
I wear the black for those who never read,
Or listened to the words that Jesus said,
About the road to happiness through love and charity,
Why, you’d think He’s talking straight to you and me.
Well, we’re doin’ mighty fine, I do suppose,
In our streak of lightnin’ cars and fancy clothes,
But just so we’re reminded of the ones who are held back,
Up front there ought ‘a be a Man In Black.
I wear it for the sick and lonely old,
For the reckless ones whose bad trip left them cold,
I wear the black in mournin’ for the lives that could have been,
Each week we lose a hundred fine young men.
And, I wear it for the thousands who have died,
Believen’ that the Lord was on their side,
I wear it for another hundred thousand who have died,
Believen’ that we all were on their side.
Well, there’s things that never will be right I know,
And things need changin’ everywhere you go,
But ’til we start to make a move to make a few things right,
You’ll never see me wear a suit of white.
Ah, I’d love to wear a rainbow every day,
And tell the world that everything’s OK,
But I’ll try to carry off a little darkness on my back,
‘Till things are brighter, I’m the Man In Black.
