so,

março 3, 2012 § Deixe um comentário

[…]

Lady lights a cigarette, puffs away, no regret 
Takes a look around, no regrets, no regrets 

Stretches out like branches of a poplar tree 
She says, i’m free 
Sings so soft as if she’ll break, says 
I can sing this song so blue 
That you will cry in spite of you 
Little wet tears on your baby’s shoulder 
Little wet tears on your baby’s shoulder […]

 

Anúncios

Daniel Cowman

novembro 12, 2009 § 1 comentário

[[antes que este blog vire um fã clube oficial da Spektor, devo dizer, esta música é fo-da.]]

2[[é a ultima vez por uns tempos que ela aparece aqui.]

 

 

On the day that Daniel Cowman stopped existing
The world should have ended right then and there
At precisely four-fifteen when he stopped existing
The world should have ended
How could it go on?
How could it go on?
How could it go on?

Oh and I don’t exist
I don’t exist [repeats]

So now that we’ve got that straight
Doesn’t mean that I can fly
Doesn’t mean I that I can go do whatever I want.
Now that we’ve got that clear
And you know that I’m not here
Doesn’t mean that I can go do whatever I please.

The premature ejaculation of his death
(something) hit Daniel in the face like a big round spitball hwk-pfffff.
And everything got hazy in the courtroom and then he stood up
And then he sat back down another two times in the row.
And everything got real slow like a gunshot in the movies
And he remembered heroin boy walking in through the door
Bouncing off the walls and the floor
Taking off his belt taking off his pants
Filling up the bathtub
Getting ready to go in for a swim.
Singing I don’t exist
I don’t exist [repeats]

And now that we’ve got that straight,
Doesn’t mean that I can fly
Doesn’t mean that I can go do whatever I want.
Now that we’ve got that clear
And you know that I’m not here
Doesn’t mean that I can go do whatever I please.
And you start remembering and remembering and remembering
And remembering…

The heroin boy, he walked through the door,
And he was screaming
And I was like ‘why’s you screaming like it’s the end of the world?’
And he was like ‘well it is.’
And I was sitting in the corner with my pants down
And I was sure that someone next door was blowing up balloons
And it was red and orange.

And there was that swell lady at the bar just tryin to buy gin
And there was this other lady at the bar and she was tryin to sell gin
It worked out good for the boths of them.

And heroin boy started taking off his belt,
Started taking off his pants,
Started taking off his shoes
Started filling up the bathtub
Getting ready to go in for a swim
I says “No-o.
You’re goin to drown.
He says ‘No,
I can’t drown.
Simply because…

Shhhhhhh.

A man destined to hang
Can never drown,
A man destined to hang
Can never drown,
A man destined to hang
Can never ever drown.

A man destined to drown
Can never burn,
A man destined to drown
Can never burn,
A man destined to drown
Can never ever burn.

A man destined to fry
Can never ever ever
A man destined to fry
Can never ever ever
A man destined to fry
Can never ever ever die…
In any other way but frying,
Lucky that I’m dying
By hanging and not drowning.

So now that we’ve got that straight
Can’t I just be left alone?
I want to take a fuckin’ bath

Blue Lips

novembro 8, 2009 § 1 comentário

He took a step but then felt tired
He said I’ll rest a little while
But when he tried to walk again
He wasn’t a child
And all the people hurried fast, real fast
And no one ever smiled

Blue lips, blue veins
Blue, the color of our planet

 

/[the most human colour’/

Laughing With

julho 21, 2009 § 4 Comentários

No one laughs at God in a hospital
No one laughs at God in a war
No one’s laughing at God
When they’re starving or freezing or so very poor

No one laughs at God
When the doctor calls after some routine tests
No one’s laughing at God
When it’s gotten real late
And their kid’s not back from the party yet

No one laughs at God
When their airplane start to uncontrollably shake
No one’s laughing at God
When they see the one they love, hand in hand with someone else
And they hope that they’re mistaken

No one laughs at God
When the cops knock on their door
And they say we got some bad news, sir
No one’s laughing at God
When there’s a famine or fire or flood
But God can be funny
At a cocktail party when listening to a good God-themed joke, or
Or when the crazies say He hates us
And they get so red in the head you think they’re ‘bout to choke
God can be funny,
When told he’ll give you money if you just pray the right way
And when presented like a genie who does magic like Houdini
Or grants wishes like Jiminy Cricket and Santa Claus
God can be so hilarious
Ha ha
Ha ha

No one laughs at God in a hospital
No one laughs at God in a war
No one’s laughing at God
When they’ve lost all they’ve got
And they don’t know what for

No one laughs at God on the day they realize
That the last sight they’ll ever see is a pair of hateful eyes
No one’s laughing at God when they’re saying their goodbyes

[…]

[SPEKTOR, Regina[ – Laughing With

/pertinente, sem palavras

Braille

maio 5, 2009 § 1 comentário

She was lying on the floor and counting stretch marks
She hadn’t been a virgin and he hadn’t been a god
So she names the baby Elvis
To make up for the royalty he lacked

And from then on it was turpentine and patches
From then on it was cold Campbell’s from the can
And they were just two jerks playing with matches
Cause that’s all they knew how to play

And it was raining cats and dogs out side of her window
And she knew they were destined to become
Sacred road kill on the way
And she was listening to the sound of heavens shaking
Thinking about puddles, puddles and mistakes

Cause it’s been turpentine and patches
It’s been cold, cold Campbell’s from the can
And they were just two jerks playing with matches
Cause that’s all they knew how to play

Elvis never could carry a tune
She thought about this irony as she stared back at the moon
She was tracing her years with her fingers on her skin
Saying why don’t I begin again
With turpentine and patches
With cold, cold Campbell’s from the can
After all I’m still a jerk playing with matches
It’s just that he’s not around to play along
I’m still an ass hole playing with candles
Blowing out wishes blowing out dreams
Just sitting here and trying to decipher
What’s written in Braille upon my skin…

 

    [SPEKTOR, Regina[

rejazz

março 28, 2009 § 1 comentário

Thought I’d cry for you forever
But I couldn’t so I didn’t
People’s children die and they don’t even cry forever
[…]”

 

     [SPEKTOR, Regina[

Onde estou?

Você está navegando em publicações marcadas com Regina Spektor em Manter em cárceres privados..