Pouring a drink beside the piano. I feel like stagnant waters in a river. I want to write new songs, but I must find a way. Now, my brain is a white page.
Get ready!
I’m a train at the station,
I’m a brain mutilation,
My wings are very long.
I’m a horse at the ocean,
a desert emotion,
I’m ready to cry.
No one knows about my pain,
There are lots of stains
around my golden box.
I’m alone with the white page
and I face peace with some rage,
because they’re coming for me.
But I’m able to escape,
‘cause they’re arriving late,
And I had seen them before.
No, I don’t need a fight,
I think it’s better to hide
When your defeat is for sure.
I’m the linen of poorness,
I play true when I play chess
When, some nights, I go out.
There’s a ladder of fire
I won’t get much higher
I’m afraid I might fall.
There are ghosts with pencils,
They all hate dancing
And they also hate art.
Here I’m alone with a few things,
tools and influences,
losing my time.
But I do it each day,
I don’t know where I’m going,
Am I going to hell?
Someone says I am wrong,
But I think “What is wrong?”
It’s just something you say.
Thank you, barmen and drinkers
for your sadness and jingles,
They are my excuse.
From this hot room where I’m writing,
wasting some breath,
This song goes for you.
And I’ve written it fast,
like a lion that runs
down the savannah hill.
And I’d write it again
If I died and I became another man.
Yes, I’ve written it fast,
like a lion that runs
down the savannah hill.
And I’d write it again
If I died and I became another man.
Please, don’t hold my hand if it is too loose.
Don’t smile when I do if it’s not true.
Spring is just three months, twelve weeks, or ninety days.
Tangos are Argentinian songs of sadness and disgrace.
I don’t have the keys,
I don’t have the clues
Every crossroads I face
Is a path I arbitrarily choose.
I’ve said all the things I had inside hahahahahah
I speak as a mystic asshole.
Maybe I should retire, that’s what I should do
I’m living in my past, my youthful, dirty past.
I don’t have the keys,
I don’t have the clues
Every crossroad I face
Is a thing I arbitrarily choose.
Please, don’t hold my hand if it is too loose.
Don’t smile when I do if it’s not true.
I’m living in my past, my youthful, dirty past.
Golden days of loneliness. Every living thing must die.
(Instrumental)
Four in the morning, the weather is cold,
she’s used to being alone,
with her pillow and her hair unkempt.
She’s in the dusk of life,
She sleeps beside a knife
And the mirror is a dump.
And she dreams of a lover,
to take a walk with him through the forest
and to look into his eyes beneath the night.
Someone to talk with,
someone to take care of her,
to embrace her in stormy times.
She sees lovers on the street
and looks at her feet
and thinks, `I need to feel that’.
And it’s time for flowers to bloom,
The sky is really blue
And nights get very long.
And she dances alone after dinner,
and she drinks a bottle of champagne,
She’s the star of her living room.
But when the music is over
and she opens her eyes,
Again, she begins to dwell.
No, it won’t be long,
Someone will come soon,
She’s said it for years past.
So she lights a candle
in her window, and she waits
unaware that her window is inward.
Goodnight, my loved one,
wherever you are,
goodnight, my love,
goodnight.
Open the book before reading it,
This is a great rule I’ve established,
I could be the leader of mankind,
especially when I’m drunk.
There is a mountain over this mountain,
I know a place and have the key,
There are treasures, there,
But just when I’m drunk, just when I’m drunk.
This is the time for drinking,
This is the drinking time,
This is the time for drinking
This is the best time.
There is a bestseller with great quotes,
I want to include one:
The only place a man is happy
is in his origins, or laughing next to it.
Just one thought.
What do you think, Henry?
I think we could be very good friends, Henry.
In fact, I’m sure you feel like me.
I love your creations, you like my creations.
My creations are songs, your creations are drinks.
I think we’re getting along, Henry.
I think it’s going very well.
I love you girl,
I want to give you my heart,
I love you girl,
I want to buy things for you,
I love you girl.
I want to give you my heart.
I love you girl,
I want to buy things for you,
I love you girl.
I want to give you my heart.
I love you baby, well, maybe.
These are great lyrics, I’ve been two months writing them.
Well, tonight is for me,
tonight is for her,
tonight is for me,
tonight is for her,
tonight is for me,
tonight is for her,
tonight is the night
of our incest.
This is the night when our parents won’t have ears.
This is the night when our parents won’t have ears.
This is the night when our parents won’t have ears.
Well, tonight is for me,
tonight is for her,
tonight is for me,
tonight is for her,
tonight is for me,
tonight is for her,
tonight is the night
of our incest.
This is the night when our parents won’t have ears.
This is the night when our parents won’t have ears.
This is the night when our parents won’t have ears.
This is the night of our parents’ decease.
I spent my time with showy girls
of honky voice and a loud red dress
drinking and laughing with a few words,
dying trying to fuck each night.
I was impulsive then when I moved,
My bill became a fat cow,
I could have bitten a dog when I was drunk,
I always like to talk about myself, somehow.
I cut whiskers and painted heads,
a roving bomb, a rowdy stain,
We mingled with Reuben & his Jets
It’s a smoky memory I can’t forget.
My liver cursed me so many times,
Bourbon was my second name,
I put my trust in nasty investments,
I used to be angry so I felt a man.
Playground of light: here’s my body,
the only thing I’m sure is mine,
I paid my rents and those of my friends,
and I learned the not sexual use for my mouth,
And this lazy guy stopped sleeping
Though a half of my brain is damaged forever,
It’s like the animation of a cartoon,
Movement is a magic fog, and there is fog around.
While tonight’s splendor hits you.
(Instrumental)
It annoys me; it sinks me into desperation.
I’m looking for a truth support.
As the one with a white moustache
who found the constant speed of light.
The only thing I think I’m sure about is
that any mother would give her life for her child.
I’m not only talking about women;
Any female animal follows the same rule.
What’s the role of men here?
He’s the vain lie of attractive colours
Who dances in the enteroom of his pleasure,
ruling, ruling talking about love.
The only thing I think I’m sure about is
that any mother would give her life for her child.
I’m not only talking about women;
Any female animal follows the same rule,
follows the same rule, follows the same rule.
Watch me with my shorts and my dirty face.
You can see my weakness, and it makes you strong.
Please, go on looking for an empty hole,
trying to put us all in an empty car.
The only thing I think I’m sure about is
that any mother would give her life for her child.
I’m not only talking about women;
Any female animal follows the same rule,
follows the same rule, follows the same rule.
I could play some covers. Not now. (+Whistle 1995)
This shit can’t be silent.
My ears are burning.
The blonde with a corset
doesn’t know what’s a chord.
Your wheels made of iron
can’t run as my tyres.
I’d like to be like Leonard,
I’d like to be…
to be coherent.
To be coherent, to be coherent
to be coherent, to be coherent.
Last night I saw a girl.
Her mind was complicated.
In a little area of her brain
She had more ideas than some whole tendencies.
She changed me. I wrote this song.
I love her music and her words.
Angels are here, and I’m not alone,
I feel I can find a new world.
To be coherent, to be coherent
to be coherent, to be coherent.
(instrumental)
(instrumental)
One night, Mike Robinson took his car.
And he said to his children: Don’t do what I do.
Don’t do what I’m doing, so please, don’t look at me.
Whatever you do, never do what I do.
In fact, whatever you do, never do what I do.
One night, Mike Robinson took the path to reach fame.
Children: don’t do what I do.
My life is very hard to carry on, my life is very hard to carry on.
That’s what, one night, Mike Robinson told his children.
I’ve heard you are a big beast.
You can kill a man with your teeth.
(version instrumental piano)
Face to face, I find you
And I wonder if you are the same one
That hurt me so deeply,
because your eyes are old
And I just remember a few things about you.
Anyway, I’ll shoot you because
Maybe you hurt me,
This is the law of my life,
I hope you understand me.
Face to face, I shoot my gun
and I kill you,
knowing it might be in vain.
But revenge is over when the avenger is in calm,
not exactly when justice is done,
When justice is done.
I want a cup of coffee,
I want a cup of coffee,
I want a cup of coffee,
I want a cup of coffee, now.
You could pour it for me with salt, now.
I want a cup of coffee,
I want a cup of coffee,
I want a cup of coffee,
I want a cup of coffee, now.
We are stagnant, again. This shit must be available in shops in three months. If you are not too creative, try with old songs.
Kurt Borer. Archery.
Kurt Borer. Archery.
Kurt Borer. Archery.
Kurt Borer. Archery.
My son, where are you?
My son, where are you?
My son, where are you?
My son, where are you?
Everything is ready in the forest.
Here we have the famous archer Kurt Borer.
His son at the tree is holding an apple
He wants to be admired as Wilhelm Tell.
Kurt Borer. Archery.
Kurt Borer. Archery.
Kurt Borer. Archery.
Kurt Borer. Archery.
People are happy, with a party face,
Unaware of the imminent disgrace,
The arrow is ready in the bow,
But its flight happens way too low.
Instrumental theremin.
Don’t be afraid. Fred. Fred Gwyne. Fredoooooo!
I’d like to write a very good song, but I wonder if I am able.
We know the answer, but go on, follow your way.
Let me take off my moustache,
let me take off these trousers,
this false pullover,
I’d like to wear roses.
A T-shirt and my old bag,
A skirt, like I wore before,
I’ll forget I loved you
And I’m going to rescue my dress.
I’ll be a flower again,
Yes, I’ll be a flower again.
This theatre is insane,
I’ll be a flower again.
I’ll walk again the streets
shaking my hips and butt,
telling dirty jokes to
boys with tight bermudas.
I’ll be a flower again,
Yes, I’ll be a flower again.
This theatre is insane,
I’ll be a flower again
Hello, audience. This is Jason Drylix. This is my old band and we’re going to play some songs of my next album, “Sun and Moon”.
(instrumental)
In the north Woods there’s an empty, mysterious old town.
Houses are in ruins, streets are dirty and a wind howls all night long.
I’ve been many times in that old town
I like to go there to look by the window of my old house
And I’m sure no one will see me.
Walking by the empty streets, I’ve got a map in my mind,
I’m the mayor, I know the town hall full with ghosts
Twilight is black and red in the old town
Why did people leave, and where did they go, years ago?
And I’m sure no one will see me.
Come with me, believe me, you can trust in me
Come and I’ll show you the road to the old town.
No one will see us there.
You said you’d come,
But times are hard, are hard, are hard,
And here, alone, I’m still waiting.
The flowers I bought
for you were blue, were blue, were blue
But they are wilting by the minute.
My patience has an end
And this end is near, is near is near,
I’m waiting, writing a blues, number n.
You said you’d come
but I’m waiting here since three, since three, since three o’clock,
oh god, oh god, it’s already five o’clock!
(Instrumental)
People, I am not aesthetic when I eat spaghetti, I’m not anorexic.
People, the answer is lonely; the animals’ congress has been shitty this year.
There is a daily debt with the circus environment,
I undress myself to hold up the progress.
Stay, and the spiral will cover all our fears, becoming the single fear.
My cousin is the ocean, he’s a coward, and he’s twice blue.
Caves will be egos if I edit my tapes with bad influences,
Caves will be egos if I edit my tapes with bad influences.
People, I created influenza when I quit anorexia, annoying my friends.
There is a can man embroidering all his clean clothes eleven times.
He is edgy and impatient; there’s a hypothesis about his acts.
He is edgy and impatient; there’s a hypothesis about his acts.
You, you, you, you little imp, you are too lean, you’ll always win.
Come on and launder my lashes with your blessed water and your leaflet.
I’ve got rage against trains that take people away
If one day I get out of jail, I’ll kill all the anchovies in revenge.
I need a metal detector, a metal detector, a metal detector.
I touch my body in the lonely nights of orange lights
As I hear sirens sounding in the city.
My eyes are half open.
I’m looking at the roof, sad because there is no YOU.
Oh, nights! Sentences for my climax.
I’m so feminine, I’m so feminine, I’m so feminine.
I don’t need to go downtown, but I love going by bus to feel people,
abrupt men.
I feel excited listening to a beautiful melody. I love glamour.
I’m so feminine, I’m so feminine, I’m so feminine.
I love little raincoats that don’t quite fulfill their purpose.
I’ve got a TV Eye on Iggy, I vibrate, I moan in silence.
I’m so feminine, I’m so feminine, I’m so feminine.
Sometimes I cry in bed, hurting my flesh.
I feel alone. I should have said yes to that nasty boy two weeks ago.
I’m so feminine, I’m so feminine, I’m so feminine.
I’d like to eat a mousse of mouse, mousse of mouse.
The morning is the night. I’m a watchman flame keeper.
I took this job to forget you.
Nothing is like it used to be,
Nights are so long, so alone.
And all the phrases you said got me upset,
hoping it to be a nightmare.
There are people on the streets, like always,
And maybe they are in trouble.
I feel like I should do something.
Maybe a cult could help me; I’ve never been too strong.
I hope a killer finds me tonight and shoots me with his gun to wake me up.
Because all the phrases you said got me upset,
hoping it to be a nightmare.
You Are Behaving Like A Sausage Dog Running By The Beach.
You were the breeze in June
running fast through the lawn,
lonesome, swinging sweetly
When everyone was in love.
Was fate a traitor?
That pulled you abroad
separating you from
The mountains where there’s gold.
You took your brown bag,
The road was misty and soon
The lights became smaller
When your spirit urged you
to know the world.
Girl, you were so pure,
But life was greedy
The heroes of dawn
Are the losers of last night.
If your eyes could see
The neon burning your skin
As pain grows inside,
You’d like to sleep,
But you can’t sleep now.
I saw you looking for
words to be understood
singing sadly with a drum
smoking outside the church.
But your song wasn’t heard,
Your voice was low
And your phrases barely new,
So the night came,
and the night was cruel.
No one will see the end,
History will just repeat itself,
Only the moon will be a witness
through the ages, as it has always been.