domingo, 30 de setembro de 2012

sábado, 29 de setembro de 2012

F#512

Olhos e alma de nadador!


De sonhador!



De inventor...de sonhos!



F#511

...fica!

Diz ele.
De olhos molhados,
por dentro.
Porque por fora ele nunca chora.
Só ri.
Não ri, sorri.
Sempre,
com ar de puto entretido. E está.

Mas ela vai, não fica. Mas quer ficar, ele sabe. Será que sabe?
Mas não fica.


Ela vai.
Ele chora, por dentro. Mas por dentro ninguém vê.

E ele por dentro não é um puto...


por Fura


y#447

Sweet 15!

"All this talk of getting old
It's getting me down, my Lord
Like a cat in a bag, waiting to drown
This time I'm coming down"

y#446

The "Cold Front" is coming...

y#445

Just follow the stream(line)...

y#444

"Listen to you speak, listen to you say to me,
That we'll never leave, that we'll never leave here again."

F#510


now i can take over control...





y#443

"It's up to me now (Got to be some more change in my life)
Turn on the bright lights (Got to be some more change in my life)"

F#509

Hey you....




quinta-feira, 27 de setembro de 2012

F#505

....the atom bomb!

Everybody knows things are bad. 
It's a depression. 
Everybody's out of work or scared of losing their job.
The dollar buys a nickel's worth. 
Banks are going bust. 
Shopkeepers keep a gun under the counter. 
Punks are running wild in the street and there's nobody anywhere that seems to know what to do and there's no end to it! 
We know the air is unfit to breathe, our food is unfit to eat, and we sit watching our TVs while some local newscaster tells us that today we had 15 homicides and 63 violent crimes as if that's the way it's supposed to be. 
We know things are bad. Worse than bad. They're crazy. 
It's like everything everywhere is going crazy so we don't go out anymore. 
We sit in a house as slowly the world we're living in is getting smaller and all we say is, "Please, at least leave us alone in our living rooms. Let me have my toaster, and my TV, and my steel belted radials and I won't say anything." Well I'm not going to leave you alone. 


I want you to get mad!

I don't want you to protest. 
I don't want you to riot.
 I don't want you to write to your congressman because I wouldn't know what to tell you to write.
 I don't know what to do about the depression and the inflation and the Russians and the crimes in the streets. 
All I know is first you've got to get mad. You've got to say, "I'm a human being, God Dammit! My life has value!" 
So, I want you to get up now. I want all of you to get up out of your chairs. 
I want you to get up right now and go to the window, open it, and stick your head out, and yell, "I'm as mad as hell, and I'm not going to take this anymore!"



y#442

Feel the "Wrath of God"!

domingo, 23 de setembro de 2012

sexta-feira, 21 de setembro de 2012

F#497


i think we are superstars!



F#496

My baby was born in a bed
With white sheets, machines and heat
Traveled home in a car to a three room nest, eats and sleeps
Laminate flooring to crawl on, TV,
Talks, starts to walk, amongst love and security.
Goes to school, learns to read and write
Probably follows a team with his friends
And gets to ride the train,
Fall in love, probably fly on a plane
Get to work all week and spend what he earns
On the high street
He's got doctors, nurses, fireman, churches,
Kindergarten, wedding bells and jet black hearses
Passport, bankcard, maybe his own yard
Locks and alarms, trinkets and charms,
Maybe a baby in his arms


My baby was born on his knees
One of poverty 's offspring
Came into the world coughing,
Already full of mother's disease
Went back to a flat, with no gas, no cash,
Rapped in a duvet full of cigarette ash,
Mama can't get no sleep,
Baby never quite get enough to eat.
Goes to school, learns to steal and fight,
Probably form a team with his friends,
Go steam those trains
Fall in love and never trust nobody again
Gets to work all week standing on the high street for Joe, Hustling blow, hustling blow.


"Faithless"


quarta-feira, 19 de setembro de 2012

F#494


Anything to make you smile




F#493


 to know me as hardly golden

Is to know me all wrong, they were!



At every occasion I will be ready for the funeral

At every occasion once more it's called the funeral

At every occasion oh I'm ready for the funeral

At every occasion of one billion day funeral




F#492

we are all made of stars!


F#491






Running in circles, coming up tails

Heads on a science apart


terça-feira, 11 de setembro de 2012

segunda-feira, 10 de setembro de 2012

y#425

"It takes an ocean not to break..."

F#479


Well I got a feeling inside
Its going to happen again
There's a fire deep in your eyes
They've never seen before

Like you do
And you'll never change

More than lights expose
who you are!

sexta-feira, 7 de setembro de 2012

y#422

"I’ve got to stop.
The will is strong, but the flesh is weak.
I guess that’s it.
I’ve made my bed, I’ll lie in it."

quinta-feira, 6 de setembro de 2012

y#421

"Come touch me like I'm an ordinary man
Have a look in my eyes
Underneath my skin there is a violence
It's got a gun in its hands

Ready to make sense of anyone, anything"

y#420

‎"I spoke to the base
And the base says 'we wait'
So I smoke an old cigar
While the giant sun fades

...

Now and then I can see the truth above the lies"

y#419

"Oh, can it be,
the voices calling me?
They get lost and out of time

I should’ve seen it glow,
But everybody knows
That a broken heart is blind
That a broken heart is blind"

sábado, 1 de setembro de 2012

y#415

"If I know only one thing, it's that everything that I see
Of the world outside is so inconceivable often I barely can speak
Yeah I'm tongue-tied and dizzy and I can't keep it to myself
What good is it to sing helplessness blues? Why should I wait for anyone else?"

y#414

"It was dark when the day began
A million stars had died and shone upon the world
and now nothing shone
The sun was hidden behind a thick, impenetrable cloud
There was no dew and the birds were no longer singing out
In fact nothing made a sound
The milkman completed his round
But he made no sound
His float, a gliding white phantom down the suburban streets
The cul de sacs where young lovers meet
Where families grow and people die
The middle class, the great divide
The silence suddenly ended
A torrent of televisions suddenly switching on
But still nothing shone
There was still no sign, no flicker from the ever present sun
And if the birds don't sing, then has the day even begun?
No birds not a single one
Children wake, a day full of fun
But no birds, not a single one
There was no blackbird, no skylark, no robin and no wren
The songs that pierce the hearts of us men
Did they die like the stars with one last cry
An angelic encore
A beautiful sigh"

~Charlie Hemphrey