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Τραγούδια με ζώα

Orfeus
Μουσικοπαραδεισένιος
Chat
19.05.2005, 01:07
Pink Floyd

"Pigs on the wing" (part 1)


If you didn't care what happened to me,
and I didn't care for you,
we would zig zag our way through the boredom and pain,
occasionally glancing up through the rain
wondering which of the buggers to blame
and watching for pigs on the wing.

"Pigs on the wing" (part 2)

You know that I care what happens to you,
and I know that you care for me too,
so I don't feel alone,
or the weight of the stone,
now that I've found somewhere safe
to bury my bone.
And any fool knows a dog needs a home,
a shelter from pigs on the wing.


No Guru, No Method, No Teacher...


[ Το μήνυμα επεξεργάστηκε από: Orfeus on 19-05-2005 01:08 ]
#101   
Jimy
Φθασμένος
Chat
19.05.2005, 01:07
"Όταν θα πάω κυρά μου στο παζάρι θα σουθ αγοράσω ένα ΚΟΚΚΟΡΑΚΙ .."


#102   
Orfeus
Μουσικοπαραδεισένιος
Chat
19.05.2005, 01:09
"Walking The Dog"

Rolling Stones


Baby, back
Dressed in black
Silver buttons all down her back
High hose, tippy toes
She broke the needle and she can sew

Walking the dog
I'm just a walking the dog
If you don't know how to do it
I'll show you how to walk the dog
C'mon now c'mon

I asked her mother for fifteen cents
I see you ever jumped the fence
I jumped so high, touched the skies
Didn't get back 'til a quarter to five

Walking the dog
I'm just a walking the dog
If you don't know how to do it
I'll show you how to walk the dog
C'mon c'mon now

Tell me mary, what's your twelve
How does your garden grow
What with silver bells and cockle shells
And pretty maids all in a row

Walking the dog
I'm just a walking the dog
If you don't know how to do it
I'll show you how to walk the dog
C'mon now c'mon

Baby, back
Dressed in black
Silver buttons all down her back
High hose, tippy toes
She broke the needle and she can sew

Walking the dog
I'm just a walking the dog
If you don't know how to do it
I'll show you how to walk the dog
C'mon now c'mon

Yeah just a walking
Uh just a walking
Uh just a walking
Now, if you don't know how to do it
I'll show you how to walk the dog
C'mon now c'mon
If you don't know how to do it
I'll show you how to walk the dog
C'mon now
If you don't know how to do it
I'll show you how to walk the dog



#103   
AlienP
Φθασμένος
Chat
19.05.2005, 01:28
κοκορίκο κοκορίκο πετεινέ μου πιτσιρίκο κοκο κοκο κοκο κοκορίκο
#104   
faltsoo
Φθασμένος
Chat
19.05.2005, 10:59
Πληθος μαιμουδες στους δρομους γυρνουν καθε μερα
πηραζουν τον κοσμο πειραζουν εσενα και μενα
,,,,,,,,,,
πες στη μαιμου μη με ξαναπειραξει
πες της τους τροπους της να τους αλλαξει
πες της στη πολη να μη ξαναρθει
και στο κλουβι της να μπει.

ΠΟΛΛ - Κ.ΤΟΥΡΝΑΣ
#105   
avgi
Συγχορδία Μινόρε
Chat
19.05.2005, 18:59
Eye Of The Tiger
Survivor


Risin' up, back on the street
Took my time, took my chances
Went the distance
Now I'm back on my feet
Just a man and his will to survive

So many times, it happens too fast
You trade your passion for glory
Don't lose your grip
On the dreams of the past
You must fight just to keep them alive

It's the eye of the tiger
It's the thrill of the fight
Risin' up to the challenge
Of our rival
And the last known survivor
Stalks his prey in the night
And his fortune must always be
Eye of the tiger

Face to face, out in the heat
Hangin' tough, stayin' hungry
They stack the odds
Still we take to the street
For the kill with the skill to survive


#106   
Orfeus
Μουσικοπαραδεισένιος
Chat
19.05.2005, 22:28
"Thick As A Brick"

Jethro Tull


Really don't mind if you sit this one out.

My words but a whisper
your deafness a SHOUT.
I may make you feel
but I can't make you think.
Your sperm's in the gutter
your love's in the sink.

So you ride yourselves over the fields
And you make all your animal deals
And your wise men don't know how it feels
to be thick as a brick.

And the sand-castle virtues
are all swept away
in the tidal destruction
the moral melee.
The elastic retreat
rings the close of play
as the last wave uncovers
the newfangled way.

But your new shoes are worn at the heels
And your suntan does rapidly peel
And your wise men don't know how it feels
to be thick as a brick.

And the love that I feel
is so far away:
I'm a bad dream
that I just had today
and you shake your head
and say it's a shame.

Spin me back down the years
and the days of my youth.
Draw the lace and black curtains
and shut out the whole truth.
Spin me down the long ages:
let them sing the song.

See there! A son is born
and we pronounce him fit to fight.
There are black-heads on his shoulders,
and he pees himself in the night.
We'll make a man of him
put him to trade
teach him to play Monopoly
and to sing in the rain.

The Poet and the painter
casting shadows on the water
as the sun plays on the infantry
returning from the sea.
The do-er and the thinker:
no allowance for the other
as the failing light illuminates
the mercenary's creed.
The home fire burning:
the kettle almost boiling
but the master of the house is far away.
The horses stamping
their warm breath clouding
in the sharp and frosty morning of the day.
And the poet lifts his pen
while the soldier sheaths his sword.

And the youngest of the family
is moving with authority.
Building castles by the sea,
he dares the tardy tide
to wash them all aside.

The cattle quietly grazing
at the grass down by the river
where the swelling mountain water
moves onward to the sea:
the builder of the castles
renews the age-old purpose
and contemplates the milking girl
whose offer is his need.
The young men of the household have
all gone into service
and are not to be expected for a year.
The innocent young master
thoughts moving ever faster
has formed the plan to change the man he seems.
And the poet sheaths his pen
while the soldier lifts his sword.

And the oldest of the family
is moving with authority.
Coming from across the sea,
he challenges the son
who puts him to the run.

What do you do when the old man's gone
do you want to be him?
And your real self sings the song.
Do you want to free him?
No one to help you get up steam
and the whirlpool turns you `way off-beam.

LATER.
I've come down from the upper class
to mend your rotten ways.
My father was a man-of-power
whom everyone obeyed.
So come on all you criminals!
I've got to put you straight
just like I did with my old man
twenty years too late.
Your bread and water's going cold.
Your hair is too short and neat.
I'll judge you all
and make damn sure that no-one judges me.

You curl your toes in fun as you smile at everyone
you meet the stares.
You're unaware that your doings aren't done.
And you laugh most ruthlessly
as you tell us what not to be.
But how are we supposed to see
where we should run?
I see you shuffle in the courtroom with
your rings upon your fingers
and your downy little sidies
and your silver-buckle shoes.
Playing at the hard case,
you follow the example
of the comic-paper idol
who lets you bend the rules.

So!
Come on ye childhood heroes!
Won't you rise up from the pages
of your comic-books
your super crooks
and show us all the way.
Well!
Make your will and testament.
Won't you? Join your local government.
We'll have Superman for president
let Robin save the day.

You put your bet on number one
and it comes up every time.
The other kids have all backed down
and they put you first in line.
And so you finally ask yourself just how big you are
and take your place in a wiser world of bigger motor cars.
And you wonder who to call on.

So!
Where the hell was Biggles
when you needed him last Saturday?
And where were all the sportsmen
who always pulled you though?
They're all resting down in Cornwall
writing up their memoirs
for a paper-back edition
of the Boy Scout Manual.

LATER.
See there! A man born
and we pronounce him fit for peace.
There's a load lifted from his shoulders
with the discovery of his disease.
We'll take the child from him
put it to the test
teach it to be a wise man
how to fool the rest.

QUOTE
We will be geared to the average rather than the exceptional
God is an overwhelming responsibility
we walked through the maternity ward
and saw 218 babies wearing nylons
cats are on the upgrade upgrade? Hipgrave. Oh, Mac.

LATER
In the clear white circles of morning wonder,
I take my place with the lord of the hills.
And the blue-eyed soldiers stand slightly discoloured
in neat little rows) sporting canvas frills.
With their jock-straps pinching, they slouch to attention,
while queueing for sarnies at the office canteen.
Saying how's your granny and good old Ernie:
he coughed up a tenner on a premium bond win.

The legends (worded in the ancient tribal hymn)
lie cradled in the seagull's call.
And all the promises they made
are ground beneath the sadist's fall.

The poet and the wise man stand behind the gun,
and signal for the crack of dawn. Light the sun.

Do you believe in the day?
Do you? Believe in the day!

The Dawn Creation of the Kings has begun.
Soft Venus (lonely maiden) brings the ageless one.

Do you believe in the day?

The fading hero has returned to the night
and fully pregnant with the day,
wise men endorse the poet's sight.

Do you believe in the day?
Do you? Believe in the day!

Let me tell you the tales of your life
Of your love and the cut of the knife
the tireless oppression
the wisdom instilled
the desire to kill or be killed.

Let me sing of the losers who lie
in the street as the last bus goes by.
The pavements are empty:
the gutters run red
while the fool toasts his god in the sky.

So come all ye young men
who are building castles!
Kindly state the time of the year
and join your voices in a hellish chorus.
Mark the precise nature of your fear.

Let me help you pick up your dead
as the sins of the father are fed
with the blood of the fools
and the thoughts of the wise
and from the pan under your bed.

Let me make you a present of song
As the wise man breaks wind and is gone
While the fool with the hour-glass
is cooking his goose
and the nursery rhyme winds along.

So!
Come all ye young men who are building castles!
Kindly state the time of the year
and join your voices in a hellish chorus.
Mark the precise nature of your fear.

See!
The summer lightning casts its bolts upon you
and the hour of judgement draweth near.
Would you be the fool
stood in his suit of armour or
the wiser man who rushes clear.

So!
Come on ye childhood heroes!
Won't your rise up from the pages
of your comic-books
your super-crooks
and show us all the way.

Well!
Make your will and testament.
Won't you? Join your local government.
We'll have Superman for president
let Robin save the day.

So!
Where the hell was Biggles
when you needed him last Saturday?
And where were all the sportsmen
who always pulled you through?
They're all resting down in Cornwall
writing up their memoirs
for a paper-back edition
of the Boy Scout Manual.

OF COURSE
So you ride yourselves over the fields
And you make all your animal deals
And your wise men don't know how it feels
to be thick as a brick.




#107   
Spilman44
Συγχορδία Ματζόρε
Chat
20.05.2005, 00:27
"Τώρα ο σκύλος έφυγε, από ντροπή και πόνο
πούβλεπε εμένα, στα προδομένα
τα χάδια σου να λυώνω "
#108   
KIT_KAT
Φθασμένος
Chat
20.05.2005, 00:59
Τόσα χρόνια στο σχολείο κάθε χρόνο άλλο θρανίο
μια ζωή στην ίδια τάξη θεωρία μα και πράξη
ω, ωωωωωωωω,ωωωωωω....

Κι ύστερα μέσα στους δρόμους θες δε θες σκύβεις τους ώμους
ούτε φράγκο για κουλούρι της ζωής το καλαμπούρι
ω, ωωωωωωωω,ωωωωωω....

Σαν γαϊδούρι που παλιώνει μα περπατησιά δεν στρώνει
έμεινα στην ίδια τάξη θεωρία μα και πράξη
ω, ωωωωωωωω,ωωωωωω....

Μόνη και στερνή μου ελπίδα η δική σου η παγίδα
ας το κάνουμε το βήμα, πέρασέ με σε άλλο τμήμα
ω, ωωωωωωωω,ωωωωωω....
#109   
Mystic
Περαστική Νότα
Chat
20.05.2005, 01:19
nyxterides kai araxnes


to ena t,alogo na einai mauro
#110   
Orfeus
Μουσικοπαραδεισένιος
Chat
20.05.2005, 01:34
JETHRO TULL

"Mother Goose"


As I did walk by Hampstead Fair
I came upon Mother Goose -- so I turned her loose --
she was screaming.
And a foreign student said to me --
was it really true there are elephants and lions too
in Piccadilly Circus?

Walked down by the bathing pond
to try and catch some sun.
Saw at least a hundred schoolgirls sobbing
into hankerchiefs as one.
I don't believe they knew
I was a schoolboy.

And a bearded lady said to me --
if you start your raving and your misbehaving --
you'll be sorry.
Then the chicken-fancier came to play --
with his long red beard (and his sister's weird:
she drives a lorry).

Laughed down by the putting green --
I popped `em in their holes.
Four and twenty labourers were labouring --
digging up their gold.
I don't believe they knew
that I was Long John Silver.

Saw Johnny Scarecrow make his rounds
in his jet-black mac (which he won't give back) --
stole it from a snow man.

#111   
Desmar
Φθασμένος
Chat
20.05.2005, 12:50
Δεν αφήνει σημάδια στην άμμο του χρόνου ό,τι μένει ακίνητο

Σκοτάδι στα φώτα, λοξόδρομοι ξύπνιοι,
σημάδια από ατμόσφαιρες που έχουν ξεφτίσει,
ποτάμια στα δέντρα, ξερά νταραβέρια,
ταμπέλες φτιαγμένες από ανάγλυφα χέρια,
δεν αφήνουν σημάδια στην άμμο του χρόνου,
γιατί εκεί επιμένουν, χωρίς να θαμπώνουν,
συμμορίες ζητιάνων την παράσταση κλέβουν,
το μελάνι τους χύνουν και βραβείο σου φέρνουν.

Το παίζεις άνετη, γνωρίζεις φάτσες,
μα δε σου καίγεται κανένα καρφί,
γιατί φοβάσαι τις δικές σου γκριμάτσες
όταν σου κάνουν κόρτε απ’ το γυαλί.

Να είσαι ελεύθερη γυρεύεις τρόπους,
μα δεν τους βρίσκεις και αγανακτείς
νομίζω θέλεις πιο πολλά απ’ τους ανθρώπους,
κι όταν στα δίνουνε αδιαφορείς.

Ποιος; Ποιος να στο πει;
Και ποιος να στο εξηγήσει;
Αυτό που φαίνεται αλήθεια είναι μισή.
Κι η άλλη μισή θα σε ξεσκίσει.

Με τραγιάσκες διατάζουν κολλημένοι ρουφιάνοι,
αλλά επίσης δεν ξέρουν πως το κόλπο δεν πιάνει,
αριστερές δεξιώσεις με θρησκόληπτα πέπλα,
στις ακούραμμους παίρνουν τη δικιά τους την έχθρα.

Ξέρεις και κρύβεσαι σαν τα ποντίκια,
μια μαύρη γάτα, λυσσασμένη ορμά,
χορεύεις ύστερα με δεκανίκια,
κάτω απ’ το πάτωμα με φωτά θαμπά.

Μα θα θυμάσαι πάντα ένα βράδυ,
«Ευτυχισμένη είμαι», μου’ πες δειλά,
τρελά φεγγάρια σ’ είχαν βάλει σημάδι,
μ’ένα τραγούδι που’ χα πει απ’ τα παλιά.

Ποιος; Ποιος να στο πει;
Και ποιος να στο εξηγήσει;
Αυτό που φαίνεται αλήθεια είναι μισή,
κι η άλλη μισή θα σε ξεσκίσει.

Κρυφές εξατμίσεις τρυπάνε σαν σφαίρα,
τους τοίχους και λένε πως έρχεται η μέρα,
απλώνεται η φήμη, αγκαλιάζει την τρέλα,
και για έρωτα αρπάζουν το ακέφαλο τέρας.
Δεν αφήνουν σημάδια στην άμμο του χρόνου,
γιατί εκεί επιμένουν χωρίς να θαμπώνουν.
Ποτάμια στα δέντρα, ξερά νταραβέρια,
ταμπέλες φτιαγμένες από ανάγλυφα χέρια.

Δεν αφήνουν σημάδια στην άμμο του χρόνου,
γιατί εκεί επιμένουν χωρίς να θαμπώνουν.

Ποτάμια στα δέντρα, ξερά νταραβέρια,
ταμπέλες φτιαγμένες από ανάγλυφα χέρια…


#112   
KIT_KAT
Φθασμένος
Chat
20.05.2005, 12:53
Δεν γουστάρω Λιζάκι
αλογάκι σε σκάκι
σε αγώνα σικέ

#113   
Desmar
Φθασμένος
Chat
20.05.2005, 13:00
... BEST OF ...

Ο Κουταλιανός

Σίδερα μασάει ο Κουταλιανός
τρένα σταματάει ο Κουταλιανός
πέτρες ροκανίζει ο Κουταλιανός
και βουνά γκρεμίζει ο Κουταλιανός.

Κι αν μασάει σίδερα και κάνει το λιοντάρι,
στο τσαρδί του ο Κουταλιανός
τρέμει σαν το ψάρι στην κυρά του μπρος
αχ πώς τη φοβάται ο φτωχός Κουταλιανός,
τρέμει σαν το ψάρι στην κυρά του μπρος
αλλά μην το πείτε κανενός.

Δένεται σε κόμπους ο Κουταλιανός
καταπίνει γλόμπους ο Κουταλιανός
είναι παλικάρι ο Κουταλιανός
τίγρη και λιοντάρι ο Κουταλιανός.


#114   
Orfeus
Μουσικοπαραδεισένιος
Chat
20.05.2005, 15:42
JETHRO TULL

"One White Duck / 0^{10} = Nothing At All"


There's a haze on the skyline,
to wish me on my way.
And there's a note on the telephone
some roses on a tray.
And the motorway's stretching right out to us all,
as I pull on my old wings
one white duck on your wall.
Isn't it just too damn real?

I'll catch a ride on your violin
strung upon your bow.
And I'll float on your melody
sing your chorus soft and low.
There's a picture-view postcard
to say that I called.
You can see from the fireplace,
one white duck on your wall.
Isn't it just too damn real?

So fly away Peter and fly away Paul
from the finger-tip ledge of contentment.
The long restless rustle of high-heeled boots calls.
And I'm probably bound to deceive you after all.

Something must be wrong
with me and my brain
if I'm so patently unrewarding.
But my dreams are for dreaming
and best left that way
and my zero to your power of ten
equals nothing at all.

There's no double-lock defense;
there's no chain on my door.
I'm available for consultation,
But remember your way in is also my way out,
and love's four-letter word is no compensation.

Well, I'm the Black Ace dog-handler:
I'm a waiter on skates
so don't you jump to your foreskin conclusion.
Because I'm up to my deaf ears
in cold breakfast trays
to be cleared before
I can dine on your sweet Sunday lunch confusion.

#115   
KicKAnGeL
Συγχορδία Μινόρε
Chat
20.05.2005, 19:44
Three blind mice,
Three blind mice
See how they run,
See how they run!

They all ran after
The farmer's wife
She cut off their tails
With a carving knife
Did you ever see
Such a sight in your life
As three blind mice?



#116   
Spilman44
Συγχορδία Ματζόρε
Chat
20.05.2005, 21:04
Η γυναίκα μου με δέρνει
Ντάμπα-ντούμπα
ντάμπα-ντούμπα...
#117   
vouliakis
Βετεράνος
Chat
20.05.2005, 23:10
Quote:

Το μέλος Spilman44 στις 20-05-2005 στις 21:04 έγραψε:

Η γυναίκα μου με δέρνει
Ντάμπα-ντούμπα
ντάμπα-ντούμπα...





Τι ζώο είναι πάλι αυτό το νταμπαντούμπα



επισυναπτόμενα: skyloi.jpg 
#118   
Orfeus
Μουσικοπαραδεισένιος
Chat
20.05.2005, 23:21
Quote:

Το μέλος Spilman44 στις 20-05-2005 στις 21:04 έγραψε:

Η γυναίκα μου με δέρνει
Ντάμπα-ντούμπα
ντάμπα-ντούμπα...






#119   
Orfeus
Μουσικοπαραδεισένιος
Chat
20.05.2005, 23:23
JETHRO TULL

"SeaLion"


Over the mountains, and under the sky
riding dirty gray horses, go you and I.
Mating with chance, copulating with mirth
the sad-glad paymasters (for what it's worth).
The ice-cream castles are refrigerated;
the super-marketeers are on parade.

There's a golden handshake hanging round your neck,
as you light your cigarette on the burning deck.
And you balance your world on the tip of your nose
like a SeaLion with a ball, at the carnival.

You wear a shiny skin and a funny hat
the Almighty Animal Trainer lets it go at that.
You bark ever-so-slightly at the Trainer's gun,
with you whiskers melting in the noon-day sun.
You flip and you flop under the Big White Top
where the long-legged ring-mistress starts and stops.

But you know, after all, the act is wearing thin
as the crowd grows uneasy and the boos begin.
But you balance your world on the tip of your nose
you're a SeaLion with a ball at the carnival.

Just a trace of pride upon our fixed grins
for there is no business like the show we're in.
There is no reason, no rhyme, no right
to leave the circus `til we've said good-night.
The same performance, in the same old way;
it's the same old story to this Passion Play.

So we'll shoot the moon, and hope to call the tune
and make no pin cushion of this big balloon.
Look how we balance the world on the tips of our noses,
like SeaLions with a ball at the carnival.

#120