tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31617427572923180532024-03-13T03:30:15.014+00:00a incontornável & voluntária cegueiranever-ending-spleepy-eyeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06415019244721505887noreply@blogger.comBlogger4125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3161742757292318053.post-7803072758524852182009-10-14T16:05:00.002+01:002010-05-04T19:56:35.489+01:00<object width="480" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/4euaY6XlV60&hl=pt_BR&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/4euaY6XlV60&hl=pt_BR&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object>never-ending-spleepy-eyeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06415019244721505887noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3161742757292318053.post-9860192800935233652009-09-03T01:14:00.000+01:002009-09-03T01:15:14.506+01:00The Cure - "One Hundred Years"It doesn't matter if we all die<br />Ambition in the back of a black car<br />In a high building there is so much to do<br />Going home time<br />A story on the radio<br /><br />Something small falls out of your mouth<br />And we laugh<br />A prayer for something better<br />A prayer<br />For something better<br /><br />Please love me<br />Meet my mother<br />But the fear takes hold<br />Creeping up the stairs in the dark<br />Waiting for the death blow<br />Waiting for the death blow<br />Waiting for the death blow<br /><br />Stroking your hair as the patriots are shot<br />Fighting for freedom on television<br />Sharing the world with slaughtered pigs<br />Have we got everything?<br />She struggles to get away . . .<br /><br />The pain<br />And the creeping feeling<br />A little black haired girl<br />Waiting for Saturday<br />The death of her father pushing her<br />Pushing her white face into the mirror<br />Aching inside me<br />And turn me round<br />Just like the old days<br />Just like the old days<br />Just like the old days<br />Just like the old days<br /><br />Caressing an old man<br />And painting a lifeless face<br />Just a piece of new meat in a clean room<br />The soldiers close in under a yellow moon<br />All shadows and deliverance<br />Under a black flag<br />A hundred years of blood<br />Crimson<br />The ribbon tightens round my throat<br />I open my mouth<br />And my head bursts open<br />A sound like a tiger thrashing in the water<br />Thrashing in the water<br />Over and over<br />We die one after the other<br />Over and over<br />We die one after the other<br />One after the other<br />One after the other<br />One after the other<br />One after the other<br /><br />It feels like a hundred years<br />A hundred years....<br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Idf-KBT-Wxs&hl=pt-br&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Idf-KBT-Wxs&hl=pt-br&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>never-ending-spleepy-eyeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06415019244721505887noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3161742757292318053.post-50209682152528633252009-03-21T14:33:00.001+00:002009-08-09T14:36:22.950+01:00Pierrot le fou<object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ycg2yb3qiUo&hl=pt-br&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ycg2yb3qiUo&hl=pt-br&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>never-ending-spleepy-eyeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06415019244721505887noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3161742757292318053.post-40790663365797555782009-04-22T01:15:00.001+01:002009-08-09T13:51:55.832+01:00Nico - "These Days"I've been out walking<br />I don't do too much talking<br />These days, these days.<br />These days I seem to think a lot<br />About the things that I forgot to do<br />And all the times I had the chance to.<br /><br />I've stopped my rambling,<br />I don't do too much gambling<br />These days, these days.<br />These days I seem to think about<br />How all the changes came about my ways<br />And I wonder if I'll see another highway.<br /><br />I had a lover,<br />I don't think I'll risk another<br />These days, these days.<br />And if I seem to be afraid<br />To live the life that I have made in song<br />It's just that I've been losing so long.<br />La la la la la, la la.<br /><br />I've stopped my dreaming,<br />I won't do too much scheming<br />These days, these days.<br />These days I sit on corner stones<br />And count the time in quarter tones to ten.<br />Please don't confront me with my failures,<br />I had not forgotten them.<br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/WRO5Se4fnwk&hl=pt-br&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/WRO5Se4fnwk&hl=pt-br&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>never-ending-spleepy-eyeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06415019244721505887noreply@blogger.com0