Najbolji "capture" sentimenta ikad! Ovu prichu shto si je ti sad isprichao sa ovim b/w znaju svi koji su znojni, tresuchi se ko vrba, sa knedlom u grlu, pocheli da se priblizhavaju mikrofonu prvih puta... sve drugo nestaje... sve se gasi... sve je tama... samo tu je.. presudni... mikrofon... pojachivach "tvog" glasa... elevator iznad masa... neshto se deshava... prelaze se granice... ochi pilje a ti ih ne vidish... cijeli svijet se oko tebe vrti... ... i shto je najinteresantnije da se okolnosti mijenjaju ali slika ostaje ista... ali nekoliko godina kasnije tama je prouzrokovana totalnom, sebichnom, strastvenom odvajanju od svega - pasionate detachment - i prepushtanje oslobadjajuchem... mikrofonu... grlo struzhe, plucha pumpaju... srce ne mozhe da stane u grudni kosh... hoche van... ostalo sve je nebitno... sve tama... samo ovaj simbol mochi... ova privilegija pojachavanja "tvog" glasa. Shteta samo da je mali broj od onih shto imaju pristup ovom magnetu pazhnje a da imaju shta pametno rechi... ili mozhda nisu shvatili da to nije samo privilegija opcionalnog karaktera nego de facto odgovornost.
All the disused derelict buildings They tell of stories of time gone by They tell of broken dreams & promises Of all those forgotten lies
And the wastegrounds of a city proud Tell the story you know too well Just sit back for a while and listen to the story I tell
You tell the story You tell the story You tell the story You heard ten times before
You wait for the day it must come soon To get you away from your feelings of gloom There's no real hope and there's none on it's way You only survive from day to day
You tell the story You tell the story You tell the story You heard ten times before
You tell a story of a city proud You tell the story you shout it out loud The same old story you wanna hear no more The same old story you've heard ten times before
3 kommentarer:
Najbolji "capture" sentimenta ikad! Ovu prichu shto si je ti sad isprichao sa ovim b/w znaju svi koji su znojni, tresuchi se ko vrba, sa knedlom u grlu, pocheli da se priblizhavaju mikrofonu prvih puta... sve drugo nestaje... sve se gasi... sve je tama... samo tu je.. presudni... mikrofon... pojachivach "tvog" glasa... elevator iznad masa... neshto se deshava... prelaze se granice... ochi pilje a ti ih ne vidish... cijeli svijet se oko tebe vrti...
... i shto je najinteresantnije da se okolnosti mijenjaju ali slika ostaje ista... ali nekoliko godina kasnije tama je prouzrokovana totalnom, sebichnom, strastvenom odvajanju od svega - pasionate detachment - i prepushtanje oslobadjajuchem... mikrofonu... grlo struzhe, plucha pumpaju... srce ne mozhe da stane u grudni kosh... hoche van... ostalo sve je nebitno... sve tama... samo ovaj simbol mochi... ova privilegija pojachavanja "tvog" glasa.
Shteta samo da je mali broj od onih shto imaju pristup ovom magnetu pazhnje a da imaju shta pametno rechi... ili mozhda nisu shvatili da to nije samo privilegija opcionalnog karaktera nego de facto odgovornost.
naaaisss
Tell the Story
All the disused derelict buildings
They tell of stories of time gone by
They tell of broken dreams & promises
Of all those forgotten lies
And the wastegrounds of a city proud
Tell the story you know too well
Just sit back for a while and listen to the story I tell
You tell the story
You tell the story
You tell the story
You heard ten times before
You wait for the day it must come soon
To get you away from your feelings of gloom
There's no real hope and there's none on it's way
You only survive from day to day
You tell the story
You tell the story
You tell the story
You heard ten times before
You tell a story of a city proud
You tell the story you shout it out loud
The same old story you wanna hear no more
The same old story you've heard ten times before
Farm
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