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Paganel, aristautarcique - 980920lui écrire blog Publié le 16/02/2008 à 00:55 Demander à la modératrice de supprimer ce forum
LA LOI DE 1920

Elle habite avec ses neuf enfants
Deux pièces, ce n'est pas même un appartement
Le mari, on ne le voit pas souvent
Et pourtant

On leur a appris à fonder une famille;
Faire autrement leur serait difficile
Au mariage c'était leur seul but dans la vie,
Et pourtant

Chaque année un autre enfant naissait
Comment auraient-ils pu l'éviter
Il y a 365 nuits dans une année
Et pourtant

L'aîné aura peut-être quelque instruction
Pour les autres il n'en est pas question
Manger ça ne leur arrive pas souvent
Et pourtant

Il y a longtemps que leur taudis est classé
Assise folle elle s'est mise à penser
Elle n'en peut plus, ça ne peut plus durer
Et pourtant

Dans un coin il y a un fourneau
L'évier est mort, on leur a coupé l'eau
Elle s'approche du feu la folie sur la peau
Et pourtant

Il suffit de tourner un robinet
Ça me tremble, les enfants dorment à coté
Ils ne se sont plus jamais réveillés
Et pourtant

On aurait dû penser pourtant
On aurait pu penser pourtant
Penser à revoir enfin la loi de 1920

-- Antoine (1965)
Paganel, aristautarcique - 980920lui écrire blog Publié le 16/02/2008 à 00:59 supprimer cette contribution
DAYS OF PEARLY SPENCER

A tenement, a dirty street
Walked and worn by shoeless feet
Inside it's long and so complete
Watched by a shivering sun
Old eyes in a small child's face
Watching as the shadows race
Through walls and cracks and leave no trace
And daylight's brightness shuns

The days of pearly spencer
The race is almost run

Nose pressed hard on frosted glass
Gazing as the swollen mass
On concrete fields where grows no grass
Stumbles blindly on
Iron trees smother the air
But withering they stand and stare
Through eyes that neither know nor care
Where the grass is gone

The days of pearly spencer
The race is almost run

Pearly where's your milk white skin
What's that stubble on your chin
It's buried in the rot gut gin
You played and lost not won
You played a house that can't be beat
Now look your head's bowed in defeat
You walked too far along the street
Where only rats can run

The days of pearly spencer
The race is almost run
The days of pearly spencer
The race is almost run
The race is almost run

A tenement, a dirty street
Remember worn and shoeless feet
Remember how you stood to beat
The way your life had gone
So pearly don't you shed more tears
For those best forgotten years
Those tenements are memories
Of where you've risen from

The days of pearly spencer
The race is almost won

-- Mark Almond
Paganel, aristautarcique - 980920lui écrire blog Publié le 16/02/2008 à 01:00 supprimer cette contribution
DEAD END STREET

Theres a crack up in the ceiling,
And the kitchen sink is leaking.
Out of work and got no money,
A sunday joint of bread and honey.

What are we living for?
Two-roomed apartment on the second floor.
No money coming in,
The rent collectors knocking, trying to get in.

We are strictly second class,
We dont understand,
(dead end!)
Why we should be on dead end street.
(dead end!)
People are living on dead end street.
(dead end!)
Gonna die on dead end street.

Dead end street (yeah)
Dead end street (yeah)

On a cold and frosty morning,
Wipe my eyes and stop me yawning.
And my feet are nearly frozen,
Boil the tea and put some toast on.

What are we living for?
Two-roomed apartment on the second floor.
No chance to emigrate,
Im deep in debt and now its much too late.

We both want to work so hard,
We cant get the chance,
(dead end!)
People live on dead end street.
(dead end!)
People are dying on dead end street.
(dead end!)
Gonna die on dead end street.

Dead end street (yeah)
Dead end street (yeah)

(dead end!)
People live on dead end street.
(dead end!)
People are dying on dead end street.
(dead end!)
Gonna die on dead end street.

Dead end street (yeah)
Dead end street (yeah)
Dead end street (yeah)
Head to my feet (yeah)
Dead end street (yeah)
Dead end street (yeah)
Dead end street (yeah)
Hows it feel? (yeah)
Hows it feel? (yeah)
Dead end street (yeah)
Dead end street (yeah)

-- Ray Davies
Paganel, aristautarcique - 980920lui écrire blog Publié le 16/02/2008 à 01:02 supprimer cette contribution
WORKING-CLASS HERO

As soon as your born they make you feel small,
By giving you no time instead of it all,
Till the pain is so big you feel nothing at all,
A working class hero is something to be,
A working class hero is something to be.

They hurt you at home and they hit you at school,
They hate you if you're clever and they despise a fool,
Till you're so fucking crazy you can't follow their rules,
A working class hero is something to be,
A working class hero is something to be.

When they've tortured and scared you for twenty odd years,
Then they expect you to pick a career,
When you can't really function you're so full of fear,
A working class hero is something to be,
A working class hero is something to be.

Keep you doped with religion and sex and TV,
And you think you're so clever and classless and free,
But you're still fucking peasents as far as I can see,
A working class hero is something to be,
A working class hero is something to be.

There's room at the top they are telling you still,
But first you must learn how to smile as you kill,
If you want to be like the folks on the hill,
A working class hero is something to be.
A working class hero is something to be.

If you want to be a hero well just follow me,
If you want to be a hero well just follow me.

-- John Lennon
1158747 Publié le 20/06/2008 à 09:13 supprimer cette contribution
Working Class Hero;


DAYS OF PEARLY SPENCER


La loi de 1920.



Paganel, aristautarcique - 980920lui écrire blog Publié le 20/06/2008 à 09:30 supprimer cette contribution


Dead-end street

Le son n'est pas terrible, mais justement, ça met bien dans l'ambiance
2449323 Publié le 17/02/2009 à 04:00 supprimer cette contribution
Bonsoir
J'ai été surpris de voir la chanson "The days of pearly spencer" attribuée a Mark Almond. En fait la chanson est un cover de David mc Williams de 1968.voilà c'était pour rendre à César ce qui appartenait à David mc Williams.

Dans la même veine on peut ajouter l'excellente chanson de Suzanne Vega "Luka":


My name is Luka
I live on the second floor
I live upstairs from you
Yes I think you seen me before
If you hear something late at night
Some kind of trouble some kind of fight
just don't ask me what it was (x3)

I think it's 'cause I'm clumsy
I try not to talk to loud
Maybe it's because I'm crazy
I try not to act too proud
They only hit until you cry
After that you don't ask why
You just don't argue anymore (x3)

Yes i think I'm ok
Walked into the door again
If you ask that's what I'll say
It's not your business anyway
I guess I'd like to be alone
Nothing broken nothing thrown
Just don't ask me how I am (x3)

My name is Luka
I live on the second floor
I live upstairs from you
Yes I think you seen me before
They only hit until you cry
After that you don't ask why
You just don't argue anymore (x3)


Suzanne Vega (1987)
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LA LOI DE 1920 Elle habite avec ses neuf enfants Deux pièces, ce n'est pas même un appartement Le mari, on ne le voit pas souvent Et pourtant On leur a appris à fonder une famille; Faire autrement
chansons-misere-oppression