Colpo di testO - Ovvero la musica in parole

[Revenge]

This means nothing to me
'Cause you are nothing to me
And it means nothing to me
That you blew this away


'Cause you could've been number one
If you only found the time
And you could've ruled the whole world
If you had the chance


You could've been number one
And you could've ruled the whole world
And we could've had so much fun
But you blew it away


You're still nothing to me
And this is nothing to me
And you don't know what you've done
But I'll give you a clue


You could've been number one
If you only had the chance
And you could've ruled the whole world
If you had the time


You could've been number one
And you could've ruled the whole world
And we could've had so much fun
But you blew it away


You could've been number one
And you could've ruled the whole world
And we could've had so much fun
But you blew it away

[Novembre]

The bottom line - Depeche Mode


Like a cat
Dragged in from the rain
Who goes straight back out
To do it all over again
I'll be back for more
It's something
That is out of our hands
Something we will never understand
It's a hidden law
The apple falls
Destiny calls
I follow you

Like a pawn
On the eternal board
Who's never quite sure
What he's moved towards
I walk blindly on
And heaven is in front of me
Your heaven beckons me enticingly
When I arrive
It's gone
The river flows
The wise man knows
I follow you

I'm yearning
I'm burning
I feel love's wheels turning

Like a moth on love's bright light
I will get burned
Each and every night
I'm dying too
The sun will shine
The bottom line
I follow you

[rubyn]

fra è il mio regalo ai nulla-tenenti,
io il mullah tra i reietti
a chi non ha il pane e a chi perso i denti e sta
nelle popolari,in celle di alveari,con i suoi e le sorelle in 40 metri quadri
a belve strette nei penitenziari
quelli magari che vanno in manette sbarbi per sbagli adolescenziali
un anno al fresco ne escono criminali,questo è per i vari
torti subiti da porci istituzionali
a chi esce tardi la sera,senza i vestiti cari
quelli che li vedi al club solo se c’è open bar al party
ad ogni sbronzo in città,perso
a chi ogni giorno è a zonzo e guarda i frà di tra-verso
a chi l’ha preso a credito e mo sta inguaiato
rischi tagli se speri di raccontargli che non c’eri tagliato,a chi c’è nato
senza fiato,senza fato,dio l’ha fatto e alla sua mensa senza piatto
a chi ha la lama occultabile dentro i boxer
vuole la grana facile da uno coi dockers
ma non puoi dare colpi bassi alla sorte,fra la sorte
è una bugia ed ha le gambe corte
ed il principe non cerca mai moglie nelle fogne
e le nostre donne danno figli con le voglie,a chi
coglie che io ho la stoffa per raccontare
sempre vero,la mia stoffa è di fottuto tessuto sociale


questo pezzo è senza prezzo a chi l’ha chiesto
“chiedi alla polvere” qua è diverso
non è la sociologia i film i libri o un testo,il mio rapporto fra è diretto
ci sto in mezzo e non l’ho chiesto no è l’inferno
“chiedi alla polvere” qua è diverso
non è la sociologia,i film, i libri un testo il mio rapporto fra è diretto


chiedi alla polvere nera,del tamburo di un revolver o a quella incolore
ma pur vera che ci avvolge,fra è la miseria
non solo soldi,uomo,che tu sia nato docile o solo per nuocere

a chi si sveglia la mattina presto
si rassegna ad un onesto lavoro,8 ore lo stesso gesto,a chi
a quell’ora stende l’ultima riga molesto,in parlantina e tace solo a se stesso,a chi
spesso tiri in mezzo,di riflesso,se rimi e ti fingi grezzo,io dis-rispetto
il credulone col mito d’uomo tutto d’un pezzo
ti basta l’acetone e ottieni un sasso compresso,fesso
a chi ha la madre che sta in ansia insonne in un letto
a chi è vestito amsa e dorme in sala d’aspetto
chi ha il padre che parla solo dialetto
cambiano i tempi e i modi,il mondo coniuga con l’imperfetto
a chi sogna la ribalta e i riflettori
e all’alba la ribalta è quella di un camion per i traslochi
per i vostri vuoti,riempiti dai nostri voti,sinistra o destra resta una trappola per topi
e a mio nonno che in sicilia ancora spreme la vite nell’orto
ed a mio padre hanno spremuto la vita dal corpo
ed al mio sporco sporco sud-sudicio a chi ha
su-subito e vuole tutto e su-subito
la mia è una genia di sconfitti,il fottuto ciclo dei vinti e finti miti
la fame è atavica e chi ha fame ingoia e non mastica
se masticasse saprebbe il mondo quanto male gli fa

[Novembre]

Best Of You - Foo Fighters

I've got another confession to make
I'm your fool
Everyone's got their chains to break
Holdin' you

Were you born to resist or be abused?
Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you?
Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you?

Are you gone and onto someone new?
I needed somewhere to hang my head
Without your noose
You gave me something that I didn't have
But had no use
I was too weak to give in
Too strong to lose
My heart is under arrest again
But I break loose
My head is giving me life or death
But I can't choose
I swear I'll never give in
I refuse

Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you?
Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you?
Has someone taken your faith?
Its real, the pain you feel
You trust, you must
Confess
Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you?
Oh...

Oh...Oh...Oh...Oh...

Has someone taken your faith?
Its real, the pain you feel
The life, the love
You die to heal
The hope that starts
The broken hearts
You trust, you must
Confess

Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you?
Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you?

I've got another confession my friend
I'm no fool
I'm getting tired of starting again
Somewhere new

Were you born to resist or be abused?
I swear I'll never give in
I refuse

Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you?
Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you?
Has someone taken your faith?
Its real, the pain you feel
You trust, you must
Confess
Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you?
Oh...

[Xilinx23]

Cherry Gost
People Help The People

God knows what is hiding in that weak and drunken heart
I guess you kissed the girls and made them cry
those Hardfaced Queens of misadventure
God knows what is hiding in those weak and sunken eyes
a Fiery throng of muted angels
Giving love and getting nothing back

People help the people
And if your homesick, give me your hand and i'll hold it
People help the people
And nothing will drag you down
Oh and if I had a brain, Oh and if I had a brain
i'd be cold as a stone and rich as the fool
That turned, all those good hearts away

God knows what is hiding, in that world of little consequence
Behind the tears, inside the lies
A thousand slowly dying sunsets
God knows what is hiding in those weak and drunken hearts
I guess the loneliness came knocking
No on needs to be alone, oh save me

People help the people
And if your homesick, give me your hand and i'll hold it
People help the people
Nothing will drag you down
Oh and if I had a brain, Oh and if I had a brain
I'd be cold as a stone and rich as the fool
That turned, all those good hearts away

People help the people
And if your homesick, give me your hand and I'll hold it
People help the people
Nothing will drag you down
Oh and if I had a brain, Oh and if I had a brain
I'd be cold as a stone and rich as the fool
That turned, all those good hearts away

[Cassandra]

Our Solemn Hour - Within Temptation


Sanctus Espiritus! redeem us from our solemn hour
Sanctus Espiritus! insanity is all around us
("I speak to you for the first time as Prime Minister in a solemn hour for the life of our country")

Sanctus Espiritus!
Sanctus Espiritus!
Sanctus Espiritus!

In my darkest hours
I could not foresee
That the tide could turn so fast to this degree
Can't believe my eyes
How can you be so blind?
Is the heart of stone, no empathy inside?

Time keeps on slipping away and we haven't learned
So in the end now what have we gained?

Sanctus Espiritus, redeem us from our solemn hour
Sanctus Espiritus, insanity is all around us
Sanctus Espiritus, is this what we deserve?
Can we break free from chains of never-ending agony?

Are they themselves to blame
The misery, the pain?
Didn't we let go?
Allowed it,let it grow
If we can't restrain
The beast which dwells inside
It will find it`s way somehow, somewhere in time

Will we remember all of the suffering
`Cause if we fail it will be in vain

Sanctus Espiritus, redeem us from our solemn hour
Sanctus Espiritus, insanity is all around us
Sanctus Espiritus, is this what we deserve?
Can we break free from chains of never-ending agony?

Sanctus Espiritus!
Sanctus Espiritus!
(" A tremendous battle is raging in France and Flanders. The Germans, by a remarkable combination of air bombing and heavily armored tanks, have broken through the French defenses north of the Maginot Line, and strong columns of their armored vehicles are ravaging the open country, which for the first day or two was without defenders...")

Sanctus Espiritus, redeem us from our solemn hour
Sanctus Espiritus, insanity is all around us
Sanctus Espiritus, is this what we deserve?
Can we break free from chains of never-ending agony? (ending agony!)

Sanctus Espiritus, redeem us from our solemn hour (solemn hour!)
Sanctus Espiritus, insanity is all around us (all around us!)
Sanctus Espiritus, is this what we deserve?
Can we break free from chains of never-ending agony?

[Revenge]

It doesn't hurt me.
Do you want to feel how it feels?
Do you want to know that it doesn't hurt me?
Do you want to hear about the deal that I'm making?
It's you and me.

And if I only could,
I'd make a deal with God,
And I'd get him to swap our places,
Be running up that road,
Be running up that hill,
Be running up that building.
So if I only could...

You don't want to hurt me,
But see how deep the bullet lies.
Unaware I'm tearing you asunder.
Oh, there is thunder in our hearts.

Is there so much hate for the ones we love?
Oh tell me, we both matter, don't we?
It's you, it's you and me.
It's you and me won't be unhappy.

And if I only could,
I'd make a deal with God,
And I'd get him to swap our places,
Be running up that road,
Be running up that hill,
Be running up that building,
Say, if I only could, oh...

You,
It's you and me,
It's you and me won't be unhappy.

"C'mon, baby, c'mon darling,
Let me steal this moment from you now.
C'mon, angel, c'mon, c'mon, darling,
Let's exchange the experience, oh..."

And if I only could,
I'd make a deal with God,
And I'd get him to swap our places,
Be running up that road,
Be running up that hill,
With no problems.

And if I only could,
I'd make a deal with God,
And I'd get him to swap our places,
Be running up that road,
Be running up that hill,
With no problems.

And if I only could,
I'd make a deal with God,
And I'd get him to swap our places,
Be running up that road,
Be running up that hill,
With no problems.

If I only could
Be running up that hill
With no problems...

[maurie]

L'ultima in ordine di tempo:

Cosa c

[_Lamia_]

Le donne amano

[FONT="Tahoma"]Non le cambierai,
sono l' amore fragile ma poi pi

[Novembre]

A pain that I'm used to - Depeche Mode


I'm not sure
What I'm looking for anymore
I just know
That I'm harder to console
I don't see who I'm trying to be
Instead of me
But the key
Is a question of control

Can you say
What you're trying to play, anyway?
I just pay
While you're breaking all the rules
All the signs that I find
Have been underlined
Devils thrive on the drive
That is fuelled

All this running around
Well, it's getting me down
Just give me a pain that I'm used to
I don't need to believe
All the dreams you conceive
You just need to achieve
Something that rings true

There's a hole in your soul
Like an animal
With no conscience
Repentance, unknown
Close your eyes
Pay the price for your paradise
Devils feed on the seeds
That are sown

Can't conceal what I feel
What I know is real
No mistaking the faking
I care
With a prayer in the air
I will leave it there
On a note full of hope
Not despair

All this running around
Well, it's getting me down
Just give me a pain that I'm used to
I don't need to believe
All the dreams you conceive
You just need to achieve
Something that rings true

All this running around
Well, it's getting me down
Just give me a pain that I'm used to
I don't need to believe
All the dreams you conceive
You just need to achieve
Something that rings true

[Giurabbit]

Is it getting better?
Or do you feel the same?
Will it make it easier on you now?
You got someone to blame
You say
One love
One life
When it's one need
In the night
One love
We get to share it
Leaves you baby if you
Don't care for it

Did I disappoint you?
Or leave a bad taste in your mouth?
You act like you never had love
And you want me to go without
Well it's

Too late
Tonight
To drag the past out into the light
We're one, but we're not the same
We get to
Carry each other
Carry each other
One

Have you come here for forgiveness?
Have you come to raise the dead?
Have you come here to play Jesus?
To the lepers in your head

Did I ask too much?
More than a lot.
You gave me nothing,
Now it's all I got
We're one
But we're not the same
Well we
Hurt each other
Then we do it again
You say
Love is a temple
Love a higher law
Love is a temple
Love the higher law
You ask me to enter
But then you make me crawl
And I can't be holding on
To what you got
When all you got is hurt

One love
One blood
One life
You got to do what you should
One life
With each other
Sisters
Brothers
One life
But we're not the same
We get to
Carry each other
Carry each other

One

One.

[Kyra]

The Offspring - (Can't Get My) Head Around You


Deep inside your soul there's a hole you don't wanna see
Every single day what you say makes no sense to me
Even though I try I can't get my head around you

Somewhere in the night there's a light in front of me
Heaven up above with a shove, I beg it's me
Even though I try I fall in the river of you
You've managed to bring me down too

All your faking (Get up,Get up,Get up, Get up)
Shows you're aching (Get up, Get up, Get up)

Every single day what you say makes no sense to me
Lettin' you inside isn't right, you'll mess with me
I'll never really know what's really going on inside you
I Can't get my head around you

All your feeling (Get up,Get up,Get up,Get up)
Shows you're breathing (Get up, Get up, Get up)


Deep inside your soul there's a hole you don't wanna see
Covering it up like a cut with the likes of me
You know I've really tried, I can't do any more about you


(Yeaaaaaaaaaaaaaah) The cut's getting deeper

(Yeaaaaaaaaaaaaaah) The hill's getting steeper.

I guess I'll never know what's really going on inside you
I can't get my head around you
I can't get my head around you
I can't get my head around you
I can't get my head around you

[Revenge]

Muse - Dead Star


Shame on you for thinking
You're an exception
We're all to blame
Crashing down to earth
Wasting and burning out
Fading like a dead star
Harm is comin your way
Its coming your way

And you used to mean everything to me
And now your tired of fighting
Tired of fighting yourself

Shame on you for thinking
Your all alone
If you want i'll make you wish you were
Failing to impress
Why can't you sleep with
Someone who'll protect you
Harm is comin your way
Its coming your way

And you used to mean everything to me
And now your tired of fighting
Tired of fighting yourself

[mat]

20 luglio 2001 - 20 luglio 2008

F. Guccini Piazza Alimonda
Genova, schiacciata sul mare, sembra cercare
respiro al largo, verso l'orizzonte.
Genova, repubblicana di cuore, vento di sale,
d'anima forte.
Genova che si perde in centro nei labirintici vecchi carrugi,
parole antiche e nuove sparate a colpi come da archibugi.
Genova, quella giornata di luglio, d'un caldo torrido
d'Africa nera.
Sfera di sole a piombo, rombo di gente, tesa atmosfera.
Nera o blu l'uniforme, precisi gli ordini, sudore e rabbia;
facce e scudi da Opliti, l'odio di dentro come una scabbia.
Ma poco più lontano, un pensionato ed un vecchio cane
guardavano un aeroplano che lento andava macchiando il mare;
una voce spezzava l'urlare estatico dei bambini.

Panni distesi al sole, come una beffa, dentro ai giardini.
Uscir di casa a vent'anni è quasi un obbligo, quasi un dovere,
piacere d'incontri a grappoli, ideali identici, essere e avere,
la grande folla chiama, canti e colori, grida ed avanza,
sfida il sole implacabile, quasi incredibile passo di danza.
Genova chiusa da sbarre, Genova soffre come in prigione,
Genova marcata a vista attende un soffio di liberazione.
Dentro gli uffici uomini freddi discutono la strategia
e uomini caldi esplodono un colpo secco, morte e follia.
Si rompe il tempo e l'attimo, per un istante, resta sospeso,
appeso al buio e al niente, poi l'assurdo video ritorna acceso;
marionette si muovono, cercando alibi per quelle vite
dissipate e disperse nell'aspro odore della cordite.

Genova non sa ancora niente, lenta agonizza, fuoco e rumore,
ma come quella vita giovane spenta, Genova muore.
Per quanti giorni l'odio colpirà ancora a mani piene.
Genova risponde al porto con l'urlo alto delle sirene.
Poi tutto ricomincia come ogni giorno e chi ha la ragione,
dico nobili uomini, danno implacabile giustificazione,
come ci fosse un modo, uno soltanto, per riportare
una vita troncata, tutta una vita da immaginare.
Genova non ha scordato perché è difficile dimenticare,
c'è traffico, mare e accento danzante e vicoli da camminare.
La Lanterna impassibile guarda da secoli gli scogli e l'onda.
Ritorna come sempre, quasi normale, piazza Alimonda.

La "salvia splendens" luccica, copre un'aiuola triangolare,
viaggia il traffico solito scorrendo rapido e irregolare.
Dal bar caffè e grappini, verde un'edicola vende la vita.
Resta, amara e indelebile, la traccia aperta di una ferita.



Per non dimenticare.

[yuri gagarin]

F. Guccini Piazza Alimonda
Genova, schiacciata sul mare, sembra cercare
respiro al largo, verso l'orizzonte.
Genova, repubblicana di cuore, vento di sale,
d'anima forte.
Genova che si perde in centro nei labirintici vecchi carrugi,
parole antiche e nuove sparate a colpi come da archibugi.
Genova, quella giornata di luglio, d'un caldo torrido
d'Africa nera.
Sfera di sole a piombo, rombo di gente, tesa atmosfera.
Nera o blu l'uniforme, precisi gli ordini, sudore e rabbia;
facce e scudi da Opliti, l'odio di dentro come una scabbia.
Ma poco più lontano, un pensionato ed un vecchio cane
guardavano un aeroplano che lento andava macchiando il mare;
una voce spezzava l'urlare estatico dei bambini.

Panni distesi al sole, come una beffa, dentro ai giardini.
Uscir di casa a vent'anni è quasi un obbligo, quasi un dovere,
piacere d'incontri a grappoli, ideali identici, essere e avere,
la grande folla chiama, canti e colori, grida ed avanza,
sfida il sole implacabile, quasi incredibile passo di danza.
Genova chiusa da sbarre, Genova soffre come in prigione,
Genova marcata a vista attende un soffio di liberazione.
Dentro gli uffici uomini freddi discutono la strategia
e uomini caldi esplodono un colpo secco, morte e follia.
Si rompe il tempo e l'attimo, per un istante, resta sospeso,
appeso al buio e al niente, poi l'assurdo video ritorna acceso;
marionette si muovono, cercando alibi per quelle vite
dissipate e disperse nell'aspro odore della cordite.

Genova non sa ancora niente, lenta agonizza, fuoco e rumore,
ma come quella vita giovane spenta, Genova muore.
Per quanti giorni l'odio colpirà ancora a mani piene.
Genova risponde al porto con l'urlo alto delle sirene.
Poi tutto ricomincia come ogni giorno e chi ha la ragione,
dico nobili uomini, danno implacabile giustificazione,
come ci fosse un modo, uno soltanto, per riportare
una vita troncata, tutta una vita da immaginare.
Genova non ha scordato perché è difficile dimenticare,
c'è traffico, mare e accento danzante e vicoli da camminare.
La Lanterna impassibile guarda da secoli gli scogli e l'onda.
Ritorna come sempre, quasi normale, piazza Alimonda.

La "salvia splendens" luccica, copre un'aiuola triangolare,
viaggia il traffico solito scorrendo rapido e irregolare.
Dal bar caffè e grappini, verde un'edicola vende la vita.
Resta, amara e indelebile, la traccia aperta di una ferita.



Per non dimenticare.

Bellissima, soprattutto in questo passaggio:
Uscir di casa a vent'anni è quasi un obbligo, quasi un dovere,
piacere d'incontri a grappoli, ideali identici, essere e avere,
la grande folla chiama, canti e colori, grida ed avanza,
sfida il sole implacabile, quasi incredibile passo di danza.
Genova chiusa da sbarre, Genova soffre come in prigione,
Genova marcata a vista attende un soffio di liberazione.
Dentro gli uffici uomini freddi discutono la strategia
e uomini caldi esplodono un colpo secco, morte e follia.
Si rompe il tempo e l'attimo, per un istante, resta sospeso,
appeso al buio e al niente, poi l'assurdo video ritorna acceso;
marionette si muovono, cercando alibi per quelle vite
dissipate e disperse nell'aspro odore della cordite.