Lyrics

Billy Joel - Big Shot

moods — Sun, 23 Jul 2006 15:40:00 GMT

You went uptown riding in your limousine. In your fine Park Avenue clothes. You had the Dom Perignon in your hand. And the spoon up your nose. And when you wake up in the morning. With your head on fire. And your eyes too bloody to see. Go on and cry in your coffee. But don't come bitchin' to me. Because you had to be a big shot, didn't you. You had to open up your mouth. You had to be a big shot, didn't you. All your friends were so knocked out. You had to have the last word last night. You know what everything's about You had to have a white hot spotlight. You had to be a big shot last night. They were all impressed with your Halston dress. And the people you knew at Elaine's. And the story of your latest success. Kept 'em so entertained. But now you just can't remember. All the things you said. And you're not sure you want to know. I'll give you one hint, honey. You sure did put on a show. Yes yes you had to be a big shot didn't you. You had to prove it to the crowd. You had to be a big shot didn't you. All your friends were so knocked out. You had to have the last word last night. You're so much fun to be around. You had to have the front page bold type. You had to be a big shot last night. Well it's no big sin to stick your two cents in. If you know when to leave it alone. But you went over the line. You couldn't see it was time to go home. No no no no no no you had to be a big shot didn't you. You had to open up your mouth. You had to be a big shot didn't you. All your friends were so knocked out. You had to have the last word. last night. So much fun to be around. You had to have a white hot spotlight. You had to be a big shot last night.

Bjork - Army of me

moods — Thu, 20 Jul 2006 20:36:00 GMT

Stand up. You've got to manage. I won't sympathize. Anymore. And if you complain once more. You'll meet an army of me. And if you complain. once more. You'll meet an army of me. You're alright. There's nothing wrong. Self-sufficience please! And get to work. And if you complain once more. You'll meet an army of me. And if you complain once more. You'll meet an army of me. Army of me. You're on your own now. We won't save you. Your rescue-squad. Is too exhausted. And if you complain once more. You'll meet an army of me. And if you complain once more. You meet an army of me. And if you complain once more. You'll meet an army of me. And if you complain once more. You'll meet an army of me. Army of me.

William Butler Yeats - A Drunken Man's Praise Of Sobriety

moods — Tue, 18 Jul 2006 19:22:00 GMT

Come swish around, my pretty punk, And keep me dancing still, That I may stay a sober man, Although I drink my fill. Sobriety is a jewel, That I do much adore; And therefore keep me dancing, Though drunkards lie and snore. O mind your feet, O mind your feet, Keep dancing like a wave, And under every dancer, A dead man in his grave. No ups and downs, my pretty, A mermaid, not a punk; A drunkard is a dead man, And all dead men are drunk.

Stef Bos - Hilton Barcelona

moods — Sat, 15 Jul 2006 02:17:00 GMT

Hilton Barcelona. Elf uur in de avond. Een zeer geslaagde zakenman. Zit moederziel alleen. Hij heeft hier op een beurs. De hele dag vergaderd. En nu kijkt hij uit verveling. Doelloos in het rond. Zijn ogen dwalen, dwalen af. Naar een dame in de hal. Zij zit alleen, zij is. één van de luxepaarden. Van een spaanse hoerenstal. En ze geeft je de illusie. Dat ze zich verleiden laat. Zij is niet goedkoop maar je kunt betalen. Met een goede creditcard. Eerst speelt hij nog de onschuld. Hij stelt zichzelf voor. Totdat hij in de alcohol. Z'n onschuld heeft vermoord. Hij vraagt haar hoe ze heet. Zij noemt alleen een prijs. Opeens trekt in een vage flits. Zijn vrouw aan hem voorbij. Dan zakken al z'n hersens. Een halve meter lager. Hij weet zich tot zijn kamerdeur. Nog netjes te gedragen. Maar daarna trekt hij hitsig. Alle kleren van haar lijf. Hij komt na vijf minuten. Zij gaat...en hij, hij blijft. Hij staart naar het plafond. De spanning is gebroken. Hij doet zijn ogen dicht maar. Hij ziet overal die slet. En daarna komt het schuldgevoel. Zijn kamer ingeslopen. Maar als redding ligt de Bijbel. In vier talen naast zijn bed. Hilton Barcelona. Langzaam wordt het licht. Vijf sterren van z'n klote. Hij doet geen oog meer dicht. De spaanse nacht is stil. Er hangt niets in de lucht. Wie altijd maar vooruit wil. Verliest de weg terug. De heimwee naar vervlogen tijden. Kamers op de Place Pigalle. Een halve ster, een krakend bed. En de toiletten in de hal. Maar een leven zonder zorgen. Een droom die nog bestaat. En een liefde, zoveel liefde. Die je met een kus betaalt. God, hij had zoveel idealen. En hij sliep onder de sterren. Hij vertelde alles wat hij voelde. Want hij had niets te verbergen. Zijn fantasie was een paleis. Hij had een hoofd om in te wonen. En hij praatte over later. Want het beste moest nog komen. Hilton Barcelona. Tien uur in de ochtend. Hij zit aan het ontbijt, ziet zichzelf. En voelt de neiging om te kotsen. Hij wil weg hier, terug naar huis. Het is een choas in zijn hoofd. Want dit hotel is het huis waar de heimwee woont. Dit hotel is het huis. Waar de heimwee woont. Zie ze lopen hier die mannen. Kleurloos tussen koud en warm Met hun zware aktentassen. Met hun ziel onder hun arm. In dit hotel regeert de leugen. Hier is de tederheid onttroond. Want dit hotel is het huis waar de heimwee woont.

Stef Bos - Arme Schapen

moods — Sat, 15 Jul 2006 02:07:00 GMT

De kudde loopt te grazen. Geen vuiltje aan de lucht. Ze vullen traag hun magen. Totdat het daglicht vlucht. De herder is verdwenen. Voor even of voor goed. Er is niemand die de weg weet. Er is niemand die ze hoedt. Arme schapen. Hoor ze blaten, met z'n allen zo alleen. Arme schapen. Alleen gelaten. Het zijn arme schapen. Hoor ze blaten, zo verschrikkelijk alleen. Arme schapen, je hoort ze vragen. Voor wie, voor wat, waarom, waardoor, waarvoor, waarheen? Ze kijken naar de hemel, genageld aan de grond. Ze wachten op een wonder, dat niet komt. Geen herder te bekennen, opgegaan in rook. Alleen het bange voorgevoel gaat met ze op de loop. Ze horen in gedachten de wolven in het bos. Al is het een illusie, het laat ze niet meer los. Niemand in de kudde die de ander nog vertrouwt Kijk ze verstoten wat vreemd is en oud. Het zijn arme schapen. Hoor ze blaten, met z'n allen zo alleen. Arme schapen. Alleen gelaten. Het zijn arme schapen. Hoor ze blaten, met z'n allen zo alleen. Arme schapen, je hoort ze vragen. Voor wie, voor wat, waarom, waardoor, waarvoor, waarheen? Het zijn arme schapen. Hoor ze blaten, zo verschrikkelijk alleen. Arme schapen. Alleen gelaten. Het zijn arme schapen. Hoor ze blaten, met z'n allen zo alleen. Arme schapen, je hoort ze vragen. Voor wie, voor wat, waarom, waardoor, waarvoor, waarheen? Waar gaat de kudde heen,..

Simple Minds - The Kick Inside Of Me

moods — Sat, 15 Jul 2006 01:55:00 GMT

You put the storm out, that's up in my head. You put the call out. Beside of me, kick up inside of me. And you steal the world and live to survive. And shake out the ghosts and then you turn around. In spite of me, kick up inside of me. One for the first time. Two for the last time. Three for the thrill and. Four for the last time. As far as I can see, you're gonna. Move deep deeper deep inside of me. Kick away my life kick away. You put the fear in me, kick away, kick away. As far as I can see you move deep deep inside of me. Take me away, take me away, up to another day. Open up the way, lead me away in the pouring rain. In the pouring rain. You put the storm out, that's up in my head. You put the call out. Beside of me, kick up inside of me. And we steal the world and live to survive. Shake out the ghosts and turn around. In spite of me, shake up the ghosts inside of me. One for the first time, two for the last time. Three for the thrill, and four for the last time. As far as I can see, you're gonna. Move deep deeper deep inside of me. Take me away, ah ah ah until another day Take me away, kick away. As far as I can see you put the fear inside of me. Kick away,..

The Cure - A Forest

moods — Sat, 15 Jul 2006 01:38:00 GMT

Come closer and see. See into the trees. Find the girl. If you can. Come closer and see. See into the dark. Just follow your eyes. Just follow your eyes. I hear her voice. Calling my name. The sound is deep. In the dark. I hear her voice. And start to run. Into the trees. Into the trees. Into the trees. Suddenly I stop. But I know it's too late. I'm lost in a forest. All alone. The girl was never there. It's always the same. I'm running towards nothing. Again and again and again and again. And again and again and again and again. And again and again and again and again. And again and again and again and again. And again and again and again and again. And again and again and again and again. And again and again and again and again. And again and again and again and again. And again and again and again and again. And again and again and again and again. And again and again and again and again. And again and again and again and again. And again and again and again and again. And again and again and again and again. And again and again and again and again. And again and again and again and again. And again and again and again and again. And again and again and again and again. And again and again and again and again. And again and again and again and again. And again and again and again and again. And again and again and again and again. And again and again and again and again. And again and again and again and again. And again and again and again and again. And again and again and again and again. And again and again and again and again. And again and again and again and again. And again and again and again and again. And again and again and again and again. And again and again and again and again. And again and again and again and again. And again and again and again and again. And again and again and again and again. And again and again and again and again. And again and again and again and again. And again and again and again and again. And again and again and again and again. And again and again and again and again. And again and again and again and again. And again and again and again and again. And again and again and again and again. And again and again and again and again. And again and again and again and again. And again and again and again and again. And again and again and again and again. And again and again and again and again. And again and again and again and again. And again and again and again and again.

The Cure - Lovesong

moods — Sat, 15 Jul 2006 01:32:00 GMT

Whenever I'm alone with you. You make me feel like I am home again. Whenever I'm alone with you. You make me feel like I am whole again. Whenever I'm alone with you. You make me feel like I am young again. Whenever I'm alone with you. You make me feel like I am fun again. However far away I will always love you. However long I stay I will always love you. Whatever words I say I will always love you. I will always love you. Whenever I'm alone with you. You make me feel like I am free again. Whenever I'm alone with you. You make me feel like I am clean again. However far away I will always love you. However long I stay I will always love you. Whatever words I say I will always love you. I will always love you.

The Cure - Fascination Street

moods — Sat, 15 Jul 2006 01:22:00 GMT

Oh it’s opening time. Down on fascination street. So let’s cut the conversation. And get out for a bit. Because I feel it all fading and paling. And I’m begging to drag you down with me. To kick the last nail in. Yeah I like you in that like I like you to scream. But if you open your mouth then I cant be responsible for. Quite what goes in or to care what comes out. So just pull on your hair. Just pull on your pout. And let’s move to the beat. Like we know that it’s over. If you slip going under. Slip over my shoulder. So just pull on your face. Just pull on your feet. And let’s hit opening time. Down on fascination street. So pull on your hair. Pull on your pout. Cut the conversation just open your mouth. Pull on your face pull on your feet. And let’s hit opening time. Down on fascination street.

Joost Prinsen - Een kop die je zelf niet bevalt - Textielstad

moods — Fri, 14 Jul 2006 23:37:00 GMT

Het is 't eindpunt van de trein. Bijna geen mens hoeft 'r te zijn. Bijna geen hond gaat zover mee. Enschede. De burchten van de nijverheid. Staan 'r nog her en der verspreid. Spelonken, hol en afgeleefd. Waar nu de wind vrij spel in heeft. Textielbaronnen van weleer. Hun jachtgebied bestaat niet meer. Waar zouden ze gebleven zijn. Van Heek, Ter Kuile, Blijdenstein? Hebben ze kinderen voortgebracht. Hebben ze hier nog nageslacht. Of koos dat snel een betere stee. Dan Enschede? Krim, Berkenkamp, Sebastopol. 't Is voorbij, de maat is vol. Bijna geen mens heeft hier nog weet. Van uw gelatenheid, uw leed. Dwars door 't uitgeteerde hart. Loopt nu de kale boelevart. Met postkantoor en V&D. O, Enschede. O, Enschede.