dimanche 27 novembre 2011

habitude

i took the latch from off my door
and woe is me could write no more
i danced a holiday in france
drank with friends and spun romance
climbed up to sacré cœur at dawn
smoked cigarettes in the light of the moon
visited my buried love in the père
wept with the shattered dreams we share
then i came home again to rain
my little couch bed, my muted brain
the gray skies reflect a very sad song
but even then with anticipation
the floodgates are broken yet nary a word
there's no music in joy for this broken bird


kestral with broken wing

samedi 26 novembre 2011

samedi 5 novembre 2011

Packing for Paris (Tales of Moineau)



I can't see straight in the morning light
I'm blindly far-sighted and dry at the mouth
and sleep will come if I would just lie down
but the miles I have driven hover and pound
'til I'm black and blue and deep crunchy fried

Yes! I'm hypo but hazy listening to the rain
The traffic is heavy for a Saturday
It was four thirty-five and now it's eight am
I'm still compiling the list of my alibis
plotting my excuses, summoning some lies

Dear God, I'm human! How much more
bodily pain am I supposed to ignore? "All!"
Select the suitcases, then pack up the pills
as the clock in the kitchen goes tick tick tick
and another day goes by and I still sit

My mask of preparedness begins to slip
My do-or-die mouthpiece is starting to drip
and I'm scared to walk because I might slip
back into the kingdom of the fearmonger
back far enough to feel my infantile anger

Oh Mama! Paris is at my feet
if i just stay awake and complete my list
Two shirts, two pants and one umbrella
insulin, eye shadow, this list is Orwellian!
'Cause the world is gonna end the ninth of November!

Look it up! You can see an asteroid is coming
or a planet or a comet, they aren't sure what
and I'll be in the air on my way to France
but so what so what so what so what
if the world is crushed to ashes and dust

For then I'll use my sparrow wings
to navigate another blue morning
A foghorn blasts near the Columbian bar
as boats launch into a tipsy blue ocean
and Moineau sets off for another adventure

jeudi 3 novembre 2011

LA VIDEO en avance de la sortie de "L'homme à tête de chou" de Bashung!!

One week before I take off for Paris... They are using my subtitles! Hurray!




Extrait de l'album « L'homme à tête de chou » à sortir le 7 novembre
http://www.alainbashung.fr

Production Company : ChezEddy
Director : Maxime Bruneel
Producer : Nicolas de Rosanbo
Line Producer : Coline Six
Production Manager : Anne-Lise Mallard
Animation : Antoine Ettori - Emmanuelle Walker - Matthieu Gaillard - Vincent Verniers - Gaëtan Louet - Hélène Marchal
Editing : Manuel Coutan - Olivier Guedj
Subtitles: Laura Tattoo

Fragile - Sting

Lest we forget how fragile we are




If blood will flow when flesh and steel are one
Drying in the colour of the evening sun
Tomorrow's rain will wash the stains away
But something in our minds will always stay
Perhaps this final act was meant
To clinch a lifetime's argument
That nothing comes from violence and nothing ever could
For all those born beneath an angry star
Lest we forget how fragile we are

On and on the rain will fall
Like tears from a star like tears from a star
On and on the rain will say
How fragile we are how fragile we are

On and on the rain will fall
Like tears from a star like tears from a star
On and on the rain will say
How fragile we are how fragile we are
How fragile we are how fragile we are