Thursday 30 June 2016

1053. Pica do 7 - António Zambujo



De manhã cedinho
Eu salto do ninho e vou pra paragem
De bandolete à espera do sete
mas não pela viagem

Eu bem que não queria
mas um certo dia vi-o passar
E o meu peito céptico
por um pica de eléctrico voltou a sonhar

A cada repique
que soa do clique daquele alicate
Num modo frenético
o peito céptico toca a rebate

Se o trem descarrila o povo refila e eu fico num sino
pois um mero trajecto no meu caso concreto é já o destino

Ninguém acredita no estado em que fica o meu coração
Quando o sete me apanha
Até acho que a senha me salta da mão
Pois na carreira
desta vida vão
Mais nada me dá a pica que o pica do sete me dá

Que triste fadário e que itinerário tão infeliz
Cruzar meu horário com o de um funcionário de um trem da carris

Se eu lhe perguntasse
se tem livre passe pró peito de alguém
Vá-se lá saber talvez eu lhe oblitere o peito também

Ninguém acredita no estado em que fica o meu coração
Quando o sete me apanha
Até acho que a senha me salta da mão
Pois na carreira desta vida vão
Mais nada me dá a pica que o pica do sete me dá

Ninguém acredita no estado em que fica o meu coração
Quando o sete me apanha
Até acho que a senha me salta da mão
Pois na carreira desta vida vão
Mas nada me dá a pica que o pica do sete me dá

1052. Ideias - Capitão Fausto



Vou olhando para as minhas ideias,
Rebanho que me pasta nas veias.
Eu remendo as minhas próprias meias,
Mesmo que uma ou outra seja feia.

As ofensas bem elaboradas merecem ser citadas.
Verbalizadas com pompa.
Verbalizadas com distinção.

Wednesday 29 June 2016

1051. Célebre Batalha Do Formariz - Capitão Fausto





Deixem os outros falar
Só me dão ideias para cantar
Deixem os outros falar
Só me dão ideias para cantar, são ideias para cantar

Explicar o que eu te digo
Só vai dar mais trabalho
Cada um no seu galho
E eu no meu umbigo
Em Portugal para França
Reage quem suporta
aos passos desta dança
E ao pão de Aljubarrota

Ahhaahaaa
Ahahahaaa

Deixem os outros falar
Só me dão ideias para cantar, são ideias para cantar

Qual era a mãe vencita
Rebenta até tequila
Choque cosmopolita
A banda descarrila

Quando eu voltar da França
E fizer esta malha
Vou-me lembrar da dança
Que provocou batalha

Ahaahaah

Deixem os outros falar
Só me dão ideias para cantar
Deixem os outros falar
Só me dão ideias para cantar, são ideias para cantar

Friday 24 June 2016

1050. Solemn oath - Band of Horses



Maybe I should go back
I'm gonna think about that
A little bit more like I did before
Miserable and mad
This one kicks like a mule
Plays me for a fool
Breaks all the rules
It's doing it wrong, but it's moving along
Can be very cruel
Right in the door, I'm tired, I'm sore
Nary A Hi, no welcome home
Yet the minute I'm up, it's pissing me off
I was yelling so loud last night
I thought the cops would surely come

Six or six-two-five
Should keep me alive
Keep me alive
Now do a little turn
Careful with your words
Everything is fine
But I'm lucky as fuck
It still ain't enough
Sick to my gut
Having to say
You sit here 'till the coast is clear
I'll send for you one day
I shouldn't repeat it
This sounds ridiculous
And I swore a solemn oath
Never to admit it's the harsh tones of criticism
Seep in to my bones

Look what I did, I'm happy with it
Aren't you happy for me?
I love you so much, I'm gonna throw up
Watch my stuff, hold this for me please
Try not to sound bitter
Or to fondly remember the dark times of the past
Like I don't deserve it or I'm not even worth it
I can do this or that
This or that

1049. Pedestrian at best - Courtney Barnett



I love you, I hate you, I'm on the fence, it all depends
Whether I'm up or down, I'm on the mend, transcending all reality
I like you, despise you, admire you
What are we gonna do when everything all falls through?
I must confess, I've made a mess of what should be a small success
But I digress, at least I've tried my very best, I guess
This, that, the other, why even bother?
It won't be with me on my deathbed, but I'll still be in your head

Put me on a pedestal and I'll only disappoint you
Tell me I'm exceptional, I promise to exploit you
Give me all your money, and I'll make some origami, honey
I think you're a joke, but I don't find you very funny

My internal monologue is saturated analog
It's scratched and drifting, I've become attached to the idea
It's all a shifting dream, bittersweet philosophy
I've got no idea how I even got here
I'm resentful, I'm having an existential time crisis
Want bliss, daylight savings won't fix this mess
Under-worked and over-sexed, I must express my disinterest
The rats are back inside my head, what would Freud have said?

Put me on a pedestal and I'll only disappoint you
Tell me I'm exceptional, I promise to exploit you
Give me all your money, and I'll make some origami, honey
I think you're a joke, but I don't find you very funny

I wanna wash out my head with turpentine, cyanide
I dislike this internal diatribe when I try to catch your eye
I hate seeing you cry in the kitchen
I don't know why it affects me like this
When you're not even mine to consider
Erroneous, harmonious, I'm hardly sanctimonious
Dirty clothes, I suppose we all outgrow ourselves
I'm a fake, I'm a phoney, I'm awake, I'm alone
I'm homely, I'm a Scorpio

Put me on a pedestal and I'll only disappoint you
Tell me I'm exceptional, I promise to exploit you
Give me all your money, and I'll make some origami, honey
I think you're a joke, but I don't find you very funny

Put me on a pedestal and I'll only disappoint you
Tell me I'm exceptional, I promise to exploit you
Give me all your money, and I'll make some origami, honey
I think you're a joke, but I don't find you very funny

Sunday 19 June 2016

1048. National Talk Like a Pirate Day - Lambchop





This is my song don't sing along
It's opinions disarrayed of might are drooped
Like good men I am disabled
From understanding what we are taught to condemn

In the kingdoms of the well and of the sick
And the hours that it took to think of this
And the road that got the best of you one day
Can you see it all

Some how I knew this wasn't it
Some how I knew that we will see this to fruition
They said I was a ditsy housewife
And I have a crude opinions of unpractised men

In my pajamas I still hold my record player
There's a hockey game on the table by the chair
And when it rains your hair begin to curl
Come the winds of dawn

Without your eye patch and your parrot
I've been informed it was national "talk like a pirate day"
Perhaps this singing is a refuge
From other equally uncomfortable thoughts
And you disregard the clock upon the wall
It's a wonder you can disregard at all
You just try to find a softer way to fall
Back into my arms

Now he thought he was a citizen
But only in the vaguest sort of way
And we will tale it to the people
And the people will then take it all away

With our pencils we are righteous and we're rough
And you wonder when your education starts
And you wipe your nose upon your pretty sleeve
And then you leave

I think we had better call a cab
Our thirst for this has made these no use
And I remember our last kiss
And I'll remember all the others from now on

Until it's time to sing this song over my grave
Like a boy who just forgets the mourning shave
Or the girl gets that hound dog to behave
I will sing to you

Saturday 18 June 2016

1047. Soaky in the pooper - Lambchop



Soaky in the pooper
Standing in a stupor by the tank
Better call the super
As I grip the towel rack for strength

Studied all these cracks before
Stuff the towel beneath the door
Crawling up all upon the floor
And wait for it to pass

Hear the faucet dripping
As his brain is slipping into mud
Man I think he's tripping
Better pull his head out of the bowl

And as the ceiling starts to bleed
He carefully begins to read
The label on the toilet seat
It's like warning of some kind

As his face turns bluish
And his eyes roll back into his head
The funeral was Jewish
All the mourners traveled in one car

They remembered he had said
You're never lonely when you're dead
And as the final rights were read
The angels start to sing soaky in the pooper

Thursday 16 June 2016

1046. I am a rock - Simon & Garfunkel



A winter's day
In a deep and dark
December,
I am alone,
Gazing from my window to the streets below
On a freshly fallen silent shroud of snow.
I am a rock,
I am an island.

I've built walls,
A fortress deep and mighty,
That none may penetrate.
I have no need of friendship, friendship causes pain.
It's laughter and it's loving I disdain.
I am a rock,
I am an island.

Don't talk of love,
But I've heard the words before,
It's sleeping in my memory.
I won't disturb the slumber of feelings that have died.
If I never loved I never would have cried.
I am a rock,
I am an island.

I have my books
And my poetry to protect me,
I am shielded in my armor,
Hiding in my room, safe within my womb.
I touch no one and no one touches me.
I am a rock,
I am an island.

And a rock feels no pain,
And an island never cries.

Monday 13 June 2016

1045. El condor pasa - Simon & Garfunkel



I'd rather be a sparrow than a snail.
Yes I would,
If I could,
I surely would.

I'd rather be a hammer than a nail.
Yes I would,
If I only could,
I surely would.

CHORUS
Away, I'd rather sail away
Like a swan that's here and gone
A man gets tied up to the ground
He gives the world
Its saddest sound,
Its saddest sound.

I'd rather be a forest than a street.
Yes I would.
If I could,
I surely woud.

I'd rather feel the earth beneath my feet,
Yes I would.
If I only could,
I surely would.

Monday 6 June 2016

1044. Beneath the city of dreams - Calexico



Venom from the dealer pulls you underground
Fortune bleeds out lucky streaks can snap
All plans have their flaws sewn
Into the map to the city of dreams

You sleep in the car with your getaway schemes
Trusted saints patrolling the walls
Deep in the chambers outside the vaults
Searched for a sound echoes concrete
Might lead for a way out
Beneath the city of dreams

El camino escondido en la ciudad del sueño
Perdido en sus calles lo busco en mis recuerdos

He looked in her eyes one last time
Then crossed his heart
Memories of a tunnel lined with gold
But no one believes in the cards they hold
Coroner’s crying to an empty crowd
The devil’s laughing to himself out loud
Beneath the city of dreams

El camino escondido en la ciudad del sueño
Perdido en sus calles, lo busco en mis recuerdos

Saturday 4 June 2016

1043. Crazy Mary - Pearl Jam



She lived on the curve of the road,
In an old, tar-paper shack
On the south side of the town,
On the wrong side of the tracks

Sometimes on the way into town we'd say:
"Mama, can we stop and give her a ride?"
Sometimes we did,
But her hands flew from her side
Wild eyed, crazy Mary

Down a long dirt road, past the Parson's place
That old blue car we used to race
Little country store
With a sign tacked to the side
Said 'No L-O-I-T-E-are-I-N-G Allowed'

Underneath that sign
Always congregated quite a crowd
Take a bottle, drink it down, pass it around
Take a bottle, drink it down, pass it around
Take a bottle, drink it down, pass it around

One night thunder cracked,
Mercy backed outside her window sill
Dreamed I was flying high above the trees,
Over the hills
Looked down into the house of Mary
Bare bulb hung, newspaper-covered walls,
And Mary rising above it all

Next morning on the way into town
Saw some skid marks and followed them around
Over the curve, through the fields,
Into the house of Mary

That what you fear the most,
Could meet you halfway
That what you fear the most,
Could meet you halfway

Take a bottle, drink it down, pass it around
Take a bottle, drink it down, pass it around
Take a bottle, drink it down, pass it around