Les plus belles paroles de chansons.

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cold
  • #15
  • Publié par
    cold
    le 14 Oct 10, 14:49
C'est marrant, lorsqu'on pense à de beaux textes, peu d'entre nous se réfèrent à des artistes actuels ?

Les chanteurs d'aujourd'hui n'écriraient que de la merde ?
En tout cas, ça y ressemble...

Sinon, je ne le connais pas bien mais apparemment Bob Dylan faisait de bons textes.
Josh43
cold a écrit :
C'est marrant, lorsqu'on pense à de beaux textes, peu d'entre nous se réfèrent à des artistes actuels ?

Les chanteurs d'aujourd'hui n'écriraient que de la merde ?
En tout cas, ça y ressemble...

Sinon, je ne le connais pas bien mais apparemment Bob Dylan faisait de bons textes.


C'est sûr que si tu enlèves les textes à Dylan (que j'adore), il reste plus grand chose quand même...
*: NOBODY EXPECTS THE SPANISH INQUISITION!
Azazello
Girls - to do the dishes
Girls - to clean up my room
Girls - to do the laundry
Girls - and in the bathroom
Girls, that's all I really want is girls
Two at a time I want girls
With new wave hairdos I want girls
I ought to whip out my girls, girls, girls, girls, girls!
Azazello
D'ailleurs ça me fait penser, voilà ce que j'appelle du songwriting, autre chose que toutes ces fadaises prétentieuses:

Well I'm the type of guy who's into getting high on a Friday afternoon
So now you know I'm a regular Joe and I'll tell you what I like to do

I like to make the scene
In my machine
I like to make the scene
I leave 'em in another state
Whenever I accelerate

I live for Cars and girls, cars and girls
I live for Car, cars and girls
I live for Cars and girls, cars and girls
I live for Car, cars and girls

There's nothing else in this crazy world
Except for cars and girls

I got a lot of good sittin under my hood but it doesn't make me feel alright
The only time I'm feelin fine is when my baby's sittin tight

I like to get it down
I like to feel the sound
I like to get it down
I leave 'em in another state
Whenever I accelerate

I live for Cars and girls, cars and girls
I live for Car, cars and girls
I live for Cars and girls, cars and girls
I live for Car, cars and girls

There's nothing else in this crazy world

Baby you and me will go
A cruisin everywhere we know
We'll take a trip out to the west
Cause the coast's the most
'cause the surfin's best

The fastest car and a movie star are my only goals in life
It's the hippest scene, the American dream and for that I'll always fight

I like to get it down
I like to feel the sound
I like to get it down
I wanna drive the fastest car
I wanna drive the fastest car
I wanna drive the fastest car
Cars, girls, surfin beer
Nothin else matter here

I live for Cars and girls, cars and girls
I live for Car, cars and girls
I live for Cars and girls, cars and girls
I live for Car, cars and girls

There's nothing else in this goddamn world
Except for cars and girls
Josh43
Vu ton goût pour le contrepied, je suis étonné que tu choisisse les beastie boys. D'autant que je ne t'imagine pas du tout en train d'écouter les Beastie Boys . Non, je t'aurais plutôt vu tenter Colette Renard (pour faire dans l'actualité), les Ramones, ou si tu veux absolument faire dans le francophone:

*: NOBODY EXPECTS THE SPANISH INQUISITION!
Redstein
'Human beings. You always manage to find the boring alternative, don't you?'


http://fermons-les-abattoirs.org

- Quand Redstein montre l'abattoir, l'imbécile regarde Redstein - (©Masha)
JHEX
  • JHEX
  • Special Méga utilisateur
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  • #23
  • Publié par
    JHEX
    le 14 Oct 10, 18:47
Je crois que c'est une vanne.
"Aucune idée sur terre est digne d'un trépas
Il faut laisser ce rôle à ceux qui n'en ont pas"
JHEX
  • JHEX
  • Special Méga utilisateur
  • MP
  • #25
  • Publié par
    JHEX
    le 14 Oct 10, 19:19
Je sais pas, j'y comprends rien non plus mais à voir quatre mots toujours suivis de "twice", "4 times", "8 times", etc..
"Aucune idée sur terre est digne d'un trépas
Il faut laisser ce rôle à ceux qui n'en ont pas"
Masha
  • #26
  • Publié par
    Masha
    le 15 Oct 10, 22:13
Joanna Newsom - Only Skin


And there was a booming above you
That night, black airplanes flew over the sea
And they were lowing and shifting like
Beached whales
Shelled snails
As you strained and you squinted to see
The retreat of their hairless and blind cavalry

You froze in your sand shoal
Prayed for your poor soul
Sky was a bread roll, soaking in a milk-bowl
And when the bread broke, fell in bricks of wet smoke
My sleeping heart woke, and my waking heart spoke

Then there was a silence you took to mean something:
Mean, run, sing
For alive you will evermore be
And the plague of the greasy black engines a-skulkin'
Has gone east
While you're left to explain them to me
Released from their hairless and blind cavalry

With your hands in your pockets, stubbily running
To where I'm unfresh, undressed and yawning
Well, what is this craziness? This crazy talking?
You caught some small death when you were sleepwalking

It was a dark dream, darlin', it's over
The firebreather is beneath the clover
Beneath his breathing there is cold clay, forever
A toothless hound-dog choking on a feather

But I took my fishingpole (fearing your fever)
Down to the swimminghole, where there grows bitter herb
That blooms but one day a year by the riverside - i'd bring it here:
Apply it gently
To the love you've lent me

While the river was twisting and braiding, the bait bobbed
And the string sobbed, as it cut through the hustling breeze
And I watched how the water was kneading so neatly
Gone treacly
Nearly slowed to a stop in this heat
- frenzy coiling flush along the muscles beneath

Press on me: we are restless things
Webs of seaweed are swaddling
You call upon the dusk
Of the musk of a squid
Shot full of ink, until you sink into your crib

Rowing along, among the reeds, among the rushes
I heard your song, before my heart had time to hush it!
Smell of a stone fruit being cut and being opened
Smell of a low and of a lazy cinder smoking

And when the fire moves away
Fire moves away, son
Why would you say
I was the last one?

Scrape your knee; it is only skin
Makes the sound of violins
When you cut my hair, and leave the birds the trimmings
I am the happiest woman among all women

And the shallow
Water
Stretches as far as I can see
Knee-deep, trudging along
A seagull weeps; "so long"

I'm humming a threshing song
Until the night is over
Hold on!
Hold on!
Hold your horses back from the fickle dawn

I have got some business out at the edge of town
Candy weighing both of my pockets down
'Til I can hardly stay afloat, from the weight of them
(and knowing how the common-folk condemn
What it is I do, to you, to keep you warm
Being a woman, being a woman)

But always up the mountainside you're clambering
Groping blindly, hungry for anything:
Picking through your pocket linings - well, what is this?
Scrap of sassafras, eh sisyphus?

I see the blossoms broke and wet after the rain
Little sister, he will be back again
I have washed a thousand spiders down the drain
Spiders ghosts hang soaked and dangelin'
Silently from all the blooming cherry trees
In tiny nooses, safe from everyone
- nothing but a nuisance; gone now, dead and done
Be a woman, be a woman!

Though we felt the spray of the waves
We decided to stay till the tide rose too far
We weren't afraid, cause we know what you are
And you know that we know what you are

Awful atoll
O, incalculable indiscreetness and sorrow!
Bawl, bellow:
Sibyl sea-cow, all done up in a bow

Toddle and roll;
Teeth an impalpable bit of leather
While yarrow, heather and hollyhock
Awkwardly molt along the shore

Are you mine?
My heart?
Mine anymore?

Stay with me for awhile
That's an awfully real gun
I know life will lay you down
As the lightning has lately done

Failing this, failing this,
Follow me, my sweetest friend
To see what you anointed in pointing your gun there

Lay it down! Nice and slow!
There is nowhere to go, save up
Up where the light, undiluted, is weaving in a drunk dream
At the sight of my baby, out back:
Back on the patio watching the bats bring night in
- while, elsewhere, estuaries of wax-white
Wend, endlessly, towards seashores unmapped

Last week our picture window produced a half-word
Heavy and hollow, hit by a brown bird
We stood and watched her gape like a rattlesnake
And pant and labour over every intake

I said a sort of prayer for some sort of rare grace
Then thought I ought to take her to a higher place
Said: "dog nor vulture nor cat shall toy with you
And though you die, bird, you will have a fine view"

Then in my hot hand
She slumped her sick weight
We tramped through the poison oak
Heartbroke and inchoate

The dogs were snapping
So you cuffed their collars
While I climbed the tree-house
Then how I hollered!
Cause she'd lain, as still as a stone, in my palm, for a lifetime or two

Then, saw the treetops, cocked her head and up and flew
(while, back in the world that moves, often
According to the hoarding of these clues
Dogs still run roughly around
Little tufts of finch-down)

The cities we passed were a flickering wasteland
But his hand in my hand made them hale and harmless
While down in the lowlands the crops are all coming;
We have everything
Life is thundering blissful towards death
In a stampede of his fumbling green gentleness

You stopped by, I was all alive
In my doorway, we shucked and jived
And when you wept, I was gone:
See, I got gone when I got wise
But I can't with certainty say we survived

Then down, and down
And down, and down
And down, and deeper
Stoke without sound
The blameless flames
You endless sleeper

Through fire below, and fire above, and fire within
Sleeped through the things that couldn't have been if you hadn't have been

And when the fire moves away
Fire moves away, son
Why would you say
I was the last one?

All my bones they are gone, gone, gone
Take my bones, I don't need none
Cold, cold cupboard, lord, nothing to chew on!
Suck all day on a cherry stone

Dig a little hole, not three inches round
Spit your pit in the hole in the ground
Weep upon the spot for the starving of me!
Till up grow a fine young cherry tree

Well when the bough breaks, what'll you make for me?
A little willow cabin to rest on your knee
What'll I do with a trinket such as this?
Think of your woman, who's gone to the west

But I'm starving and freezing in my measly old bed!
Then i'll crawl across the salt flats to stroke your sweet head
Come across the desert with no shoes on!
I love you truly, or I love no-one

Fire
Moves
Away

Fire moves away, son
Why would you say
I was the last one?

Clear the room! There's a fire, a fire, a fire
Get going, and I'm going to be right behind you
And if the love of a woman or two, dear,
Couldn't move you to such heights, then all I can do
Is do, my darling, right by you
"Masha ... Comment fais-tu pour, si régulièrement, trouver de telles horreurs : c'est inécoutable !!!!"

Postez des recettes, bordayl de merde.
¤¤°New°borN°¤¤
Pokémon
Un jour je serai le meilleur dresseur
Je me battrai sans répit
Je ferai tout pour être vainqueur
Et gagner les défis
Je parcourerai la terre entière
Traquant avec espoir
Les pokémon et leurs mystères
Le secret de leurs pouvoirs
Pokémon !
Attrapez les tous





Désolé, j'arrête.

Allez, plus sérieusement, moi qui m'appelle emmanuel, on m'a fait découvrir quelque chose, justement pendant une peine de coeur :

Renaud - Manu


Eh Manu rentre chez toi
Y'a des larmes plein ta bière
Le bistrot va fermer
Pi tu gonfles la taulière
J'croyais qu'un mec en cuir
Ca pouvait pas chialer
J'pensais même que souffrir
Ca pouvais pas t'arriver
J'oubliais qu'tes tatouages
Et ta lame de couteau
C'est surtout un blindage
Pour ton coeur d'artichaut

Eh déconne pas Manu
Va pas t'tailler les veines
Une gonzesse de perdue
C'est dix copains qui r'viennent

On était tous maqués
Quand toi t'étais tous seul
Tu disais j'me fais chier
Et j'voudrais sauver ma gueule
T'as croisé cette nana
Qu'était faite pour personne
T'as dit elle pour moi
Ou alors y'a maldonne
T'as été un peu vite
Pour t'tatouer son prénom
A l'endroit où palpite
Ton grand coeur de grand con

Eh déconne pas Manu
C't'à moi qu'tu fais d'la peine
Une gonzesse de perdue
C'est dix copains qui r'viennent

J'vais dire on est des loups
On est fait pour vivre en bande
Mais surtout pas en couple
Ou alors pas longtemps
Nous autres ça fait un bail
Qu'on a largué nos p'tites
Toi t'es toujours en rade
Avec la tienne et tu flippes
Eh Manu vivre libre
C'est souvent vivre seul
Ca fait p't'être mal au bide
Mais c'est bon pour la gueule

Eh déconne pas Manu
Ca sert à rien la haine
Une gonzesse de perdue
C'est dix copains qui r'viennent

Elle est plus amoureuse
Manu faut qu'tu t'arraches
Elle peut pas être heureuse
Dans les bras d'un apache
Quand tu lui dis je t'aime
Si elle te d'mande du feu
Si elle a la migraine
Dès qu'elle est dans ton pieu
Dis lui qu't'es désolé
Qu't'as dû t'gourrer d'histoire
Quand tu l'as rencontrée
T'as dû t'tromper d'histoire

Eh déconne pas Manu
Va pas t'tailler les veines
Une gonzesse de perdue
C'est dix copains qui r'viennent

Eh déconne pas Manu
Va pas t'tailler les veines
Une gonzesse de perdue
C'est dix copains qui r'viennent

Eh déconne pas Manu
C't'à moi qu'tu fais d'la peine
Une gonzesse de perdue
C'est dix copains qui r'viennent



Après, c'est peut-être juste parce qu'elle représente beaucoup de choses pour moi.
J'ai hésité aussi à mettre Chanson pour Pierrot.
Ce que j'aime chez Renaud (du moins le Renaud de cette époque), c'est qu'il avait pas besoin d'un vocabulaire soutenu, de tournures de phrases désuètes... Juste de l'argot, et de la sensibilité. Je trouve que ça fonce droit dans le bide, que ça tord les tripes et que ça fait chialer, là, directement, parce que ça te fout à nu sans détours et sans hauteur ; que ça te parle à toi, et pas à ce que tu es/représente/veux être.


J'aime bien Souchon aussi. Mais c'pas pareil.
Sinon, j'ai vu du piaf, du brel, du brassens... Très bons choix.
J'ai des places pour le prochain concert de Nirvana.
Raphc
  • #28
  • Publié par
    Raphc
    le 16 Oct 10, 07:44
JHEX a écrit :
Je sais pas, j'y comprends rien non plus mais à voir quatre mots toujours suivis de "twice", "4 times", "8 times", etc..


C'est du Kobaïen hein. Pas sur que ca se traduise.
OutlawHeart
Townes Van Zandt - St John the gambler



When she had twenty years she turned to her mother
Saying mother, I know that you'll grieve
But I've given my soul to St. John the gambler
Tomorrow comes time to leave

For the hills cannot hold back my sorrow forever
And dead men lie deep 'round the door
The only salvation that's mine for the asking
So mother, think on me no more

An' winter held high 'round the mountains breast
And the cold of a thousand snows
Lay heaped upon the forests leaf
But she dressed in calico

For a gambler likes his women fancy
Fancy she would be
And the fire of her longing would keep 'way the cold
And her dress was a sight to see

But the road was long beneath the feet
She followed her frozen breath
In search of a certain St. John the gambler
Stumbling to her death

She heard his laughter right down from the mountains
And danced with her mothers tears
To a funeral drawn a calico
'Neath the cross of twenty years

To a funeral drawn a calico
'Neath the cross of twenty years
"Beneath your dancing feet are the tombs of tortured men - Thus does the Red Death rebuke your merriment !"

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