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richtig starke Songtexte

Erstellt von musicola, 29.08.2003, 13:57 Uhr · 15 Antworten · 4.154 Aufrufe

  1. #1
    Benutzerbild von musicola

    Registriert seit
    07.02.2002
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    Es ist ja ne altbekannte Tatsache dass die meisten Songtexte nur geschrieben werden um nicht mit nem Instrumental dazustehen! :\

    Hier sollten deshalb mal eure Favoriten von Songtexten stehen die einen
    klaren Inhalt haben und eine Geschichte vermitteln!


    Ich fange mal an mit zwei Texten von Alanis Morissette und Nik Kershaw:


    Alanis Morissette - ironic

    An old man turned nighty eight
    he won the lottery and died the next day
    It's a black fly in your Chardonnay
    It's a death row pardon two minutes too late
    And isn't it ironic...don't you think?

    It's like rain on your wedding day
    It's a free ride when you've allready paid
    It's the good advise that you just didn't take
    And who would have thought... it figures!

    Mr. Play it Save was afraid to fly
    He oacked his suitcase kissed his kids goodbye
    he waited his whole damn life to take that flight
    and as the plane crashed down he thought
    Well, isn't this nice?
    And isn't it ironic, don't you think?

    It's like rain on your wedding day
    It's a free ride when you've allready paid
    It's the good advise that you just didn't take
    And who would have thought... it figures!

    Well life has a funny way
    of sneaking up on you
    when you think everything's okay
    and everything's gonna right
    And life has a funny way
    of helping you out
    when you thing everything's gone wrong
    and everythings blows up
    In your face

    A traffic jam when you're allready late
    a no-smoking sign on your cigarette break
    It's like ten thousand spoons when all you need is a knife
    It's meeting the man of my dreams and then meeting his beautiful wife!!!
    And isn't it ironic...don't you think?
    A little too ironic? And yeah, I really do think

    It's like rain on your wedding day
    It's a free ride when you've allready paid
    It's the good advise that you just didn't take
    And who would have thought... it figures!

    Life has a funny way
    Of sneaking up on you
    Life has a funny way
    of helping you out
    helping you out


    Übersetzung: (fand ich zufällig, sollte keine Pflicht sein!)

    Ein alter Mann wurde 98 Jahre
    Er gewann in der Lotterie und starb am nächsten Tag
    Es ist eine schwarze Fliege in deinem Chardonnay
    Es ist wie eine Bagnadigung zwei Minuten nach der Hinrichtung
    Ist das nicht ironisch...glaubst du nicht auch?

    Das ist wie Regen an deinem Hochzeitstag
    Wie ein Freifahrschein wenn du schon bezahlt hast
    Wie ein guter Rat, den du nicht beherzigt hast
    Wer hätte das geahnt?...mal wieder typisch!

    Herr "Nummer Sicher" hatte Angst vorm Fliegen
    Er packte seine Koffer
    und küßte zum Abschied seine Kinder
    Sein ganzes verdammtes Leben hat er darauf gewartet,
    diesen Flug zu unternehmen
    und als das Flugzeug abstürzte
    dachte er noch: "Ist das nicht nett...!"
    Und ist das nicht ironisch...denkst du nicht auch?

    Das ist wie Regen an deinem Hochzeitstag
    Wie ein Freifahrschein wenn du schon bezahlt hast
    Wie ein guter Rat, den du nicht beherzigt hast
    Wer hätte das geahnt?...mal wieder typisch!

    Komisch wie einem das Leben
    Mitunter einen Streich spielt
    Gerade wenn du denkst, dass alles okay ist
    und alles gut läuft
    Komisch wie einem das Leben mitunter zur Hilfe kommt,
    gerade wenn du meinst, alles geht daneben
    und alles geht kaputt vor deinen Augen

    Ein Stau, wenn du sowieso schon zu spät bist
    Ein Nicht-Raucher Schild in deiner Zigarettenpause,
    Es ist wie zehntausend Löffel, wenn alles
    was du brauchst ein Messer ist
    Als treffe ich den Mann meiner Träume
    und gleich danach seine bildhübsche Frau
    Ist das nicht ironisch...denkst du nicht auch?
    Ein bißchen zu viel Ironie?
    oh ja, das finde ich wirklich auch

    Das ist wie Regen an deinem Hochzeitstag
    Wie ein Freifahrschein wenn du schon bezahlt hast
    Wie ein guter Rat, den du nicht beherzigt hast
    Wer hätte das geahnt?...mal wieder typisch!

    Komisch wie einem das Leben
    mitunter einen Streich spielt
    komisch, komisch wie dir das Leben mitunter zu Hilfe kommt
    zu Hilfe kommt...


    Nik Kershaw - shine on

    I took a hundred and ten pictures of you
    Put them all around me and wondered
    what to do

    Like a temple in memory,
    a shrine in your name
    To days I don't remember,
    to nights I can't reclaim
    I took a part of my life,
    about eighteen years long
    Pulled it all to pieces and tried to make a song
    With a groove you could dance to, a tune you
    could hum
    I sung to my reflection, looking for the one

    Man sees the boy in his eyes
    Boy sees the man, singing:

    Shine on
    I thought you were gone
    I thought you gave in
    Deserted me long ago
    Shine on
    You're somebody's son
    You're laughing again
    You're letting the feeling grow

    I took a hold of myself. It's not how I planned
    Pulled myself together and acted like a man
    I got a face I must keep up, responsible me
    I keep it on my shoulders for everyone to see

    But man sees the boy in his eyes
    Boy sees the man, singing:

    Shine on
    I thought you were gone
    I thought you gave in
    Deserted me long ago
    Shine on
    You're somebody's son
    You're laughing again
    You're letting the feeling grow

    Letting the feeling grow,
    giving the years back to me
    Letting the whole world know
    that somebody in there loves me

    Man sees the boy when he cries
    Boy sees the man clinging on to him
    Man sees the boy in his eyes
    Boy sees the man, singing:

    Shine on


    Übersetzung: (eher ne Interpretation, garnicht so einfach *g*)

    Ich nahm all die Bilder von dir
    Legte sie alle um mich herum
    und fragte mich was zu tun sei
    Wie wär's mit einem Tempel der Erinnerungen
    Ein Schrein mit deinem Namen
    An Tage, an die ich mich nicht erinnere
    An Nächte, die ich niemals zurückbekomme

    Ich nahm einen Teil meines Lebens
    Etwa achtzehn Jahre
    Ich teilte ihn in Stücke und versuchte ein Lied daraus zu machen
    Mit einem Groove zu dem du tanzen könntest
    Ein Klang den du mitsummst
    Ich sang um mich zu reflektieren, um ihn zu sehen

    Der Mann sieht den Jungen vor seinen Augen
    Der Junge sieht den Mann wie er singt:

    Erstrahle wieder
    Ich dachte du wärst fort
    Ich dachte du hättest dich ergeben
    Mich vor langer Zeit verlassen
    Erstrahle wieder
    Du bist jemandes Sohn
    Du lachst wieder
    Du lässt dieses Gefühl wieder aufkommen

    Ich nahm Einfluss auf mich. Es war nicht wie ich es plante
    Ich riss mich zusammen und benahm mich wie ein Mann!
    Ich muss mein Gesicht wahren, bin dafür verantwortlich
    Ich trag es auf meinen Schultern, für jeden zu sehen

    Aber der Mann sieht den Jungen vor seinen Augen
    Der Junge sieht den Mann wie er singt:

    Erstrahle wieder
    Ich dachte du wärst fort
    Ich dachte du hättest dich ergeben
    Mich vor langer Zeit verlassen
    Erstrahle wieder
    Du bist jemandes Sohn
    Du lachst wieder
    Du lässt dieses Gefühl wieder aufkommen

    Dieses Gefühl wieder aufkommen lassen
    Mir die Jahre zurück geben
    Die ganze Welt wissen lassen
    dass jemand da drinnen mich liebt

    Der Mann sieht den Jungen wenn er weint
    Der Junge sieht den Mann wie er ihn umarmt
    Der Mann sieht den Jungen vor seinen Augen
    Der Junge sieht den Mann wie er singt:

    Erstrahle wieder


    +++++++++++++

    Zwei, wie ich finde, sehr starke und vor allem glaubwürdige Inhalte!


    musicola

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  3. #2
    Benutzerbild von compagnies

    Registriert seit
    05.08.2003
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    Latin Quarter - Toulouse

  4. #3
    Benutzerbild von Babooshka

    Registriert seit
    15.11.2002
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    7.585
    Mein absoluter Favorit:
    An Englishman in New York - Godley & Creme

    Sehr schön, sehr poetisch:
    Budapest by blimp - Thomas Dolby

  5. #4
    Benutzerbild von musicola

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    öhm... wenn ihr dazu evtl. noch die Lyrics hier reinposten würdet?

    Wär klasse!

  6. #5
    Benutzerbild von Babooshka

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    Wird nachgereicht. Ich workahole gerade!

  7. #6
    Benutzerbild von French80

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    Alphaville - Forever Young

    let's dance in style, lets dance for a while
    heaven can wait we're only watching the skies
    hoping for the best but expecting the worst
    are you going to drop the bomb or not?

    let us die young or let us live forever
    we don't have the power but we never say never
    sitting in a sandpit, life is a short trip
    the music's for the sad men

    can you imagine when this race is won
    turn our golden faces into the sun
    praising our leaders we're getting in tune
    the music's played by the madmen

    forever young, i want to be forever young
    do you really want to live forever, forever and ever

    some are like water, some are like the heat
    some are a melody and some are the beat
    sooner or later they all will be gone
    why don't they stay young

    it's so hard to get old without a cause
    i don't want to perish like a fading horse
    youth is like diamonds in the sun
    and diamonds are forever

    so many adventures couldn't happen today
    so many songs we forgot to play
    so many dreams are swinging out of the blue
    we let them come true


    Übersetzung (habe ich auch nicht selbst geschrieben.. hab's gefunden!)
    Laß uns tanzen.
    Tanzen, für eine gewisse Zeit.
    Der Himmel kann noch auf uns warten,
    Wir betrachten lieber die Sterne.
    Hoffen das beste,
    Erwarten aber andererseits das schlimmste.
    Wird die Bombe eines Tages fallen oder nicht?

    Entweder wir sterben jung,
    Oder wir leben für immer.
    Wir haben nicht die Kraft dazu,
    Aber wir sagen niemals „nie”.
    Eigentlich leben wir nur wie in einer Sandkiste,
    Und das Leben ist wahrhaftig ein kurzer Moment.
    Musik? Musik ist etwas für die Melancholischen,
    Weiter nichts.

    Kann jemand wissen, wann dieses Rennen entschieden ist?
    Und wir die strahlenden Sieger sind?
    Unsere Führer loben und preisen?
    Das ist eher etwas für die Verrückten.

    Ewige Jugend, ich wäre gerne ewig jung.
    Aber würdest du wirklich unendlich leben wollen?
    Ewig, und immer.

    Manche von uns sind wie Wasser,
    Andere wie Feuer.
    Wieder andere wie eine Melodie,
    Oder auch wie der Bass.
    Früher oder später jedoch werden alle so oder so fort sein.
    Weg, für immer.
    Warum bleiben sie nicht jung?

    Es ist so schwierig zu verstehen,
    Alt zu werden ohne einen Grund.
    Jugend ist so etwas wie Diamanten in der Sonne.
    Und Diamanten haben etwas Unvergängliches.

    Für so vieles wird es eines Tages zu spät sein.
    So viele Lieder werden wir eines Tages vergessen haben, zu spielen.
    So viele Träume rühern einmal von Traurigkeit.
    Und diese sollte man wahr werden lassen.



    Und dann noch :

    Wolfsheim - Kein Zurück

    Weißt du noch, wie's war
    Kinderzeit... wunderbar...
    Die Welt ist bunt und schön.
    Bis du irgendwann begreifst,
    Dass nicht jeder Abschied heißt,
    Es gibt auch ein Wiedersehen

    Immer vorwärts, Schritt um Schritt ... Es geht kein Weg zurück!
    Und Was jetzt ist, wird nie mehr ungeschehen.
    Die Zeit läuft uns davon, Was getan ist, ist getan.
    Was jetzt ist, wird nie mehr so geschehen.

    Ein Wort zuviel im Zorn gesagt,
    'N Schritt zu weit nach vorn gewagt.
    Schon ist es vorbei.
    Was auch immer jetzt getan,
    Was ich gesagt hab´, ist gesagt,
    Und was wie ewig schien ist schon Vergangenheit.

    Ach, und könnt' ich doch nur ein einz'ges Mal Die Uhren rückwärts drehen,
    Denn wieviel von dem, was ich heute weiß, Hätt' ich lieber nie gesehen.

    Dein Leben dreht sich nur im Kreis,
    So voll von weggeworfener Zeit,
    und Deine Träume schiebst Du endlos vor Dir her.
    Du willst noch leben irgendwann,
    Doch wenn nicht heute, wann denn dann...?
    Denn irgendwann ist auch ein Traum zu lange her.

  8. #7
    Benutzerbild von musicola

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    Auch ganz schön starker Tobak:

    Police - Don't Stand So Close To Me

    Young teacher the subject
    Of schoolgirl fantasy
    She wants him so badly
    Knows what she wants to be
    Inside her there's longing
    This girl's an open page
    Book marking - she's so close now
    This girl is half his age

    Don't stand, don't stand so
    Don't stand so close to me
    Don't stand, don't stand so
    Don't stand so close to me

    Her friends are so jealous
    You know how bad girls get
    Sometimes it's not so easy
    To be the teacher's pet
    Temptation, frustration
    So bad it makes him cry
    Wet bus stop, she's waiting
    His car is warm and dry

    Don't stand, don't stand so
    Don't stand so close to me
    Don't stand, don't stand so
    Don't stand so close to me

    Loose talk in the classroom
    To hurt they try and try
    Strong words in the staff room
    The accusations fly
    It's no use, he sees her
    He starts to shake and cough
    Just like the old man in
    That book by Nabakov

    Don't stand, don't stand so
    Don't stand so close to me
    Don't stand, don't stand so
    Don't stand so close to me
    Don't stand, don't stand so
    Don't stand so close to me

  9. #8
    Benutzerbild von Arcadia

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    31.10.2003
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    517
    Self-Deception - De/Vision

    I'm unclean
    Undress me
    So unreal
    The frame I see
    I stand stripped to the waist
    Before myself
    Is it really me
    Or what I'm trying to be

    I won't drown
    In my tears
    And go down
    In my fears
    I am stripped to the skin
    I feel ashamed
    Is it really me
    What I pretend to be

    This life is just an illusion
    A dream that never ends
    I'm always trapped in confusion
    On lies it all depends
    If this is just an illusion
    Made up in somebody's mind
    I have to draw the conclusion
    It must be someone unkind

    I won't lose
    My trust again
    So untrue
    It's still the same
    So I strip off my skin
    To ease the pain
    Is it really me
    What I believe to see

  10. #9
    Benutzerbild von ihkawimsns

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    Hier ein paar meiner Textfavoriten:



    Bon Jovi: These Days

    I was walking around,
    Just a face in the crowd,
    Trying to keep myself out of the rain.
    Saw a vagabond king
    Wear a Styrofoam crown,
    Wondered if I might end up the same.
    There’s a man out on the corner,
    Singing old songs about change.
    Everybody’s got their cross to bare
    These days.

    She came looking for some shelter
    With a suitcase full of dreams
    To a motel room on the boulevard,
    I guess she’s trying to be James Dean.
    She’s seen all the disciples and all the wanna be’s.
    No one wants to be themselves these days.
    Still there’s nothing to hold on to
    But these days.

    These days,
    The stars seem out of reach.
    These days,
    There ain’t a ladder on these streets.
    These days are fast,
    Love don’t last in this graceless age.
    There ain’t nobody left but us these days,
    There ain’t nobody left but us these days.

    Jimmy’s shoes busted both his legs,
    Trying to learn to fly.
    From a second story window,
    He just jumped and closed his eyes.
    His mamma said he was crazy,
    He said mamma “I’ve got to try.
    Don’t you know that all my heroes died
    And I guess I’d rather die than fade away.
    Yeah!”

    These days…

    Oooh… I know Rome’s still burning.
    Oooh… Though the times have changed.
    Oooh… This world keeps turning
    Round and round and round and round
    These days.

    These days…

    These days,
    The stars seem out of reach.
    These days,
    There ain’t a ladder on these streets.
    Oh, no, no, no.
    These days are fast, nothing lasts,
    There ain’t no time to waste,
    There ain’t nobody left to take the blame
    Oh, no, no no,
    There ain’t nobody left but us these days.
    There ain’t nobody left but us these days.



    P.O.D.: Youth Of The Nation

    Last day of the rest of my life,
    I wish I would have known
    ‘Cause I didn’t kiss my mama goodbye.
    I didn’t tell her that I loved her
    And how much I care
    Or thank my pops for all the talks
    And all the wisdom he shared.
    Unaware, I just did what I always do,
    Every day the same routine
    Before I skate off to school.
    But who knew that this day wasn’t like the rest,
    Instead of taking a test,
    I took two to the chest.
    Call me blind, but I didn’t see it coming,
    Everybody was running
    But I couldn’t hear nothing except
    Gun blasts, it happened so fast,
    I don’t really know this kid
    Even though I sit by him in class.
    Maybe this kid was reaching out for love
    Or maybe for a moment
    He forgot who he was.
    Or maybe this kid just wanted to be hugged,
    Whatever it was, I know it’s because

    We are, we are, (we are)
    The youth of the nation.
    We are, we are, (we are)
    The youth of the nation.

    We are, we are...

    Little Suzy, she was only twelve,
    She was given the world
    With every chance to excel.
    Hang with the boys
    And hear the stories they tell,
    She might act kind of proud
    But no respect for herself.
    She finds love in all the wrong places,
    The same situations,
    Just different faces.
    Changed up her pace since her daddy left her,
    Too bad he never told her,
    She deserved much better.
    Johnny boy always played the fool,
    He broke all the rules,
    So you would say he was cool.
    He was never really one of the guys,
    No matter how hard he tried,
    Often thought of suicide.
    It’s kind of hard when you ain’t got no friends,
    He put his life to an end,
    They might remember him then.
    You cross the line and there’s no turning back,
    Told the world how he felt
    With the sound of a gat.

    We are, we are...

    We are, we are...

    Who’s to blame for the lives
    That tragedies claim,
    No matter what you say,
    I don’t take away the pain
    That I feel inside, I’m tired of all the lies,
    Don’t nobody know why,
    It’s the blind leading the blind.
    I guess that’s the way the story goes,
    Will it ever make sense,
    Somebody’s got to know.
    There’s gotta be more to life then this,
    There’s gotta be more to everything
    I thought exists.

    We are, we are...

    We are, we are...

    We are the youth of the nation.
    We are the youth of the nation.
    We are the youth of the nation.
    We are.



    Simon & Garfunkel: Cats In The Cradle

    A child arrived just the other day,
    He came to the world in the usual way.
    But there were planes to catch and bills to pay.
    He learned to walk while I was away.
    And he was talking ‘fore I knew it,
    And as he grew,
    He’d say, “I’m gonna be like you, dad.
    You know I’m gonna be like you.”

    And the cat’s in the cradle and the silver spoon,
    Little boy blue and the man in the moon.
    “When you’re coming home, dad?” –
    “I don’t know when, but we’ll get together then.
    You know we’ll have a good time then.”

    My son turned ten just the other day,
    He said, “Thanks for the ball, dad,
    Come on, let’s play.
    Can you teach me to throw?” I said, “Not today,
    I got a lot to do.” He said, “That’s o.k.”
    And he walked away,
    But his smile never dimmed,
    Said, “I’m gonna be like him, yeah.
    You know I’m gonna be like him.”

    And the cat’s in the cradle...

    Well, he came from college just the other day,
    So much like a man I just had to say,
    “Son, I’m proud of you, can you sit for a while?”
    He shook his head and he said with a smile,
    “What I’d really like, dad,
    Is to borrow the car keys.
    See you later. Can I have them please?”

    And the cat’s in the cradle...

    I’ve long since retired and my son’s moved away.
    I called him up just the other day.
    I said, “I’d like to see you if you don’t mind.”
    He said, “I’d love to, dad, if I could find the time.
    You see, my new job’s a hassle
    And the kid’s got the flu,
    But it’s sure nice talking to you, dad.
    I’ts been sure nice talking to you.”
    And as I hung up the phone, it occurred to me,
    He’d grown up just like me,
    My boy was just like me.

    And the cat’s in the cradle...

    And the cat’s in the cradle...



    Simon & Garfunkel: The Boxer

    I am just a poor boy,
    Though my story seldom told,
    I have squandered my resistance
    For a pocketful of mumbles,
    Such are promises.
    All lies and jest,
    Still, a man hears what he wants to hear
    And disregards the rest.

    When I left my home and my family,
    I was no more than a boy
    In the company of strangers
    In the quiet of the railway station,
    Running scared.
    Laying low, Seeking up the poorer quarters
    Where the ragged people go,
    Looking for the places, only they would know.

    Lie-la-lie, lie-la-lie-lie, lie-la-lie...

    Asking only workman’s wages,
    I come looking for a job,
    But I get no offers.
    Just a come-on from the whores
    On seventh avenue.
    I do declare, there where times
    When I was so lonesome
    I took some comfort there,
    Ooh...

    Lie-la-lie, lie-la-lie-lie, lie-la-lie...

    Then I’m laying out my winter clothes,
    And wishing I was gone,
    Going home,
    Where the New York City winters
    Aren’t bleeding me.
    Leading me, going home.

    Lie-la-lie, lie-la-lie-lie, lie-la-lie...

    In the clearing stands a boxer
    And a fighter by his trade.
    And he carries the reminders
    Of every glove that laid him down.
    And cut him ‘til he cried out
    In his anger and his shame,
    “I am leaving, I am leaving.”
    But the fighter still remains.

    Lie-la-lie, lie-la-lie-lie, lie-la-lie...



    Sparks: When Do I Get To Sing "My Way"?

    No, no use in lecturing them,
    Or in threatening them,
    They will just say “Who are you?”
    Is that a question or not,
    And you see that the plot
    Is predictable, not new,
    But you’re still stunned
    At the things you will do.

    No, no use in taking their time
    Or in wasting two dimes
    On a call to God-knows-who,
    When all you feel is the rain
    And it’s hard to be vain
    When no person looks at you,
    So just be gracious
    And wait in the queue.

    So, when do I get to sing “My Way”,
    When do I get to feel like Sinatra felt,
    When do I get to sing “My Way”,
    In heaven or hell?
    When do I get to do it my way,
    When do I get to feel like Sid Vicious felt,
    When do I get to sing “My Way”,
    In heaven or hell?

    Yes, it’s a tradition, they say,
    Like a bright Christmas Day,
    And traditions must go on,
    And though I say, yes, I see,
    No, I really don’t see
    Is my smiley face still on?
    Sign your name with an X,
    Mow the lawn.

    So, when do I get...

    They’ll introduce me, “Hello, hello.”
    Women seduce me and champagne flows.
    Then the lights go low,
    There’s only one song I know.

    There, this home which once was serene,
    Now is home to the screams
    And to flying plates and shoes.
    But I have no souvenirs
    Of these crackerjack years,
    Not a moment I could choose.
    And not one offer
    That I could refuse.

    So, when do I get...



    Zager & Evans: In The Years 2525

    In the year 2525,
    If man is still alive,
    If woman can survive, they may find.

    In the year 3535,
    Ain’t gonna need to tell the truth,
    Tell no lies.
    Everything you think, do and say,
    Is in the pill you took today.

    In the year 4545,
    Ain’t gonna need your teeth,
    Won’t need your eyes.
    You won’t find a thing to chew,
    Nobody’s gonna look at you.

    In the year 5555,
    Your arms hanging limp at your sides.
    Your legs got nothing to do,
    Some machine doing that for you.

    In the year 6565,
    Ain’t gonna need no husband,
    Won’t need a wife,
    You’ll pick your son, pick your daughter, too,
    From the bottom of a long-glass tube.
    Whoa-oh.

    In the year 7510,
    If God’s a-comin’, he oughta make it by then.
    Maybe he’ll look around himself and say,
    “Guess it’s time for the judgement day.”

    In the year 8510,
    God is gonna shake his migty head.
    He’ll either say: “I’m pleased
    Where man has been.”
    Or tear it down and start again.
    Whoa-oh.

    In the year 9595,
    I’m kinda wonderin’ if man is gonna be alive,
    He’s taken everything this old Earth can give,
    And he ain’t put back nothing.
    Whoa-oh.

    Now it’s been ten thousand years,
    Man has cried a billion tears.
    For what he never knew,
    Now man’s reign is through.
    But through eternal light,
    The twinkling of starlight,
    So very far away.
    Maybe it’s only yesterday.

    In the year 2525,
    If man is still alive,
    If woman can survive, they may find.



    Genesis: No Son Of Mine

    Well the key to my survival
    Was never in much doubt.
    The question was how I could keep sane,
    Trying to find a way out
    Things were never easy for me,
    Peace of mind was hard to find,
    And I needed a place where I could hide,
    Somewhere I could call mine
    I didn't think much about it
    till it started happening all the time,
    Soon I was living with the fear everyday
    Of what might happen that night
    I couldn't stand to hear the crying
    Of my mother and I remember when
    I swore that that would be
    The last they'd see of me
    And I never went home again.

    They say that time is a healer
    and now my wounds are not the same.
    I rang the bell with my heart in my mouth,
    I had to hear what he'd say
    He sat me down to talk to me,
    He looked me straight in the eyes, he said:

    You're no son, you're no son of mine.
    You're no son, you're no son of mine.
    You walked out, you left us behind,
    And you're no son, no son of mine.

    Oh, his words, how they hurt me, I'll never forget it,
    And as the time, it went by, I lived to regret it.

    You're no son, you're no son of mine,
    But where should I go, and what should I do.
    You're no son, you're no son of mine,
    But I came here for help, oh, I came here for you.

    Well the years they passed so slowly,
    I thought about him everyday.
    What would I do, if we passed on the street,
    would I keep running away.
    In and out of hiding places,
    Soon I'd have to face the facts,
    We'd have to sit down and talk it over
    And that would mean going back.

    They say that time is a healer...

    You're no son, you're no son of mine.
    You're no son, you're no son of mine.
    When you walked out, you left us behind,
    And you're no son, you're no son of mine.

    Oh, his words...

    You're no son, you're no son of mine.
    But where should I go, and what should I do.
    You're no son, you're no son of mine,
    But I came here for help, oh I was looking for you.

    You're no son, you're no son of mine – oh
    You're no son - ha yeah, ha yeah, ha yeah, ha yeah
    You're no son, you're no son of mine - oh, oh...



    Cranberries: Zombie

    Another head hangs lowly,
    Child is slowly taken.
    And violence caused such silence,
    Who are we mistaken.
    But you see, it's not me,
    It's not my family.
    In your head, in your head they are fighting
    With their tanks and their bombs
    And their bombs and their guns,
    In your head, in your head they are cryin'.

    In your head, in your head,
    Zombie, zombie, zombie-bie-bie.
    What's in your head, in your head,
    Zombie, zombie, zombie-bie-bie.

    Another mother's breakin' heart is taking over.
    When violence causes silence,
    We must be mistaken.
    It's the same old theme since 1916,
    In your head, in your head they're still fightin'
    With their tanks and their bombs
    And their bombs and their guns
    In your head, in your head they are dyin.

    In your head...



    Billy Joel: Leningrad

    Viktor was born in the spring of '44
    And never saw his father anymore.
    A child of sacrifice, a child of war,
    Another son who never had
    A father after Leningrad.

    Went off to school
    And learned to serve the state
    Followed the rules
    And drank his vodka straight.
    The only way to live was drown the hate,
    A Russian life was very sad,
    And such was life in Leningrad.

    I was born in '49,
    A cold war kid in McCarthy time.
    Stop 'em at the 38th Parallel,
    Blast those yellow reds to hell.
    And cold war kids were hard to kill
    Under their desk in an air raid drill,
    Haven't they heard we won the war,
    What do they keep on fighting for?

    Viktor was sent to some Red Army town,
    Served out his time, became a circus clown,
    The greatest happiness he'd ever found
    Was making Russian children glad
    And children lived in Leningrad.

    But children lived in Levittown,
    And hid in the shelters underground,
    Until the Soviets turned their ships around
    And tore the Cuban missiles down.
    And in that bright October sun,
    We knew our childhood days were done
    And I watched my friends go off to war,
    What do they keep on fighting for?

    And so my child and I came to this place
    To meet him eye to eye and face to face.
    He made my daughter laugh,
    Then we embraced,
    We never knew what friends we had
    Until we came to Leningrad.

    Aah...



    The Eagles: Hotel California

    On a dark desert highway, cool wind in my hair,
    Warm smell of colitis rising up through the air.
    Up ahead in the distance I saw a shimmering light,
    My head grew heavy, and my sight grew dim.
    I had to stop for the night,
    There she stood in the doorway.
    I heard the mission bell and I was thinking to myself.
    This could be Heaven or this could be Hell,
    Then she lit up a candle
    And she showed me the way.
    There were voices down the corridor,
    I thought I heard them say;

    Welcome to the Hotel California,
    Such a lovely place,
    (Such a lovely place)
    Such a lovely face.
    Plenty of room at the Hotel California,
    Any time of year,
    (Any time of year)
    You can find it here,
    You can find it here.

    Her mind is Tiffany twisted,
    She's got the Mercedes Benz.
    She's got a lot of pretty, pretty boys
    That she calls friends.
    How they dance in the courtyard,
    Sweet summer sweat.
    Some dance to remember,
    Some dance to forget.
    So I called up the Captain,
    Please bring me my wine.
    He said,
    We haven't had that spirit here since 1969.
    And still those voices are calling from far away,
    Wake you up in the middle of the night,
    Just to hear them say:

    Welcome to the Hotel California,
    Such a lovely place,
    (Such a lovely place)
    Such a lovely face.
    They're livin' it up at the Hotel California,
    What a nice surprise,
    (What a nice surprise)
    Bring your alibis.

    Mirrors on the ceiling,
    Pink champagne on ice.
    And she said, ee are all just prisoners here
    Of our own device.
    And in the master's chambers,
    They gathered for the feast.
    They stab it with their steely knives,
    But they just can't kill the beast.
    Last thing I remember,
    I was running for the door.
    I had to find the passage
    Back to the place I was before.
    Relax said the nightman,
    We are programmed to receive,
    You can check out any time you like,
    But you can never leave.



    The Human League: The Lebanon

    She dreams of 1969,
    Before the soldiers came.
    The life was cheap on bread and wine
    And sharing meant no shame.
    She is awakened by the screams
    Of rockets flying from nearby,
    And scared she clings onto her dreams
    To beat the fear that she might die.

    And who will have won
    When the soldiers have gone
    From the Lebanon?
    The Lebanon?

    Before he leaves the camp he stops,
    He scans the world outside.
    And where there used to be some shops
    Is where the snipers sometimes hide.
    He left his home the week before,
    He thought he’d be like the police.
    But now he finds he is at war,
    Weren’t we supposed to keep the peace?

    And who will have won
    When the soldiers have gone
    From the Lebanon?
    The Lebanon?
    The Lebanon?
    From the Lebanon?

    I must be dreaming,
    It can’t be true.
    I must be dreaming,
    It can’t be true.

    And who will have won
    When the soldiers have gone?
    From the Lebanon?
    The Lebanon?
    The Lebanon?
    From the Lebanon?


    Ultravox: The Thin Wall

    The sound is on, the visions move,
    The image dance starts once again,
    They shuffle with a bovine grace
    And glide in syncopation.
    Just living lines from books we've read
    With atmospheres of days gone by,
    With paper smiles the screenplay calls
    A message for the nation.

    And those who sneer will fade and die
    And those who laugh will surely fall
    And those who know will always feel
    Their backs against the thin wall,
    The thin wall.
    Thin wall.

    Old men who speak of victory,
    Shed light upon their stolen life,
    They drive by night and act as if
    They're moved by unheard music.
    To step in time and play the part
    With velvet voices smooth and cold
    Their power games, a game no more
    And long the chance to use it.

    And those who...

    And those who dance will spin and turn,
    And those who wait will wait no more,
    And those who talk will hear the word,
    And those who sneer will fade and die,
    And those who laugh will surely fall,
    And those who know will always feel their backs against the thin wall.
    The thin wall.
    Thin wall.

    The thin wall.
    The thin wall.
    The thin wall.

    And those who dance, the thin wall.
    And those who talk, the thin wall.
    And those who sneer, the thin wall.
    And those who laugh, the thin wall.
    And those who know, the thin wall.
    And those who dance, the thin wall.
    And those who wait, the thin wall.
    And those who talk...



    City: Am Fenster

    Einmal wissen, dieses bleibt für immer.
    Ist nicht Rausch der schon die Nacht verklagt.
    Ist nicht Farbenschmelz noch Kerzenschimmer,
    Von dem Grau des Morgens längst verjagt.

    Einmal fassen, tief im Blute fühlen.
    Dies ist mein und es ist nur durch dich.
    Nicht die Stirne mehr am Fenster kühlen,
    Dran ein Nebel schwer vorüber strich.

    Einmal fassen, tief im Blute fühlen.
    Dies ist mein und es ist nur durch dich.
    Klagt ein Vogel, ach auch mein Gefieder,
    Näßt der Regen, flieg ich durch die Welt.

    Flieg ich durch die Welt, flieg ich durch die Welt...


    City: Pfefferminzhimmel

    Im Foyer vom Leinwandhimmel, auf dem Wege ins Parkett
    gibts was Süßes aus der Tüte, was zum Knabbern vom Tablett.
    Dort nimmt sie vorm dritten Läuten ihre Handvoll Silber ein,
    Sweetheart mit der kurzen Schürze, und sie will woanders sein.
    Weg vom dürren Kokosläufer unterm Notbeleuchtungsschein,
    aus der Luft von alten Sesseln will sie weg, sie will woanders sein.
    Ob nach Tara, nach Atlanta ist ihr dabei einerlei.
    "Vom Wind verweht" hat angefangen und sie will woanders sein.

    Wo die Palmen sich verneigen, wo die Purpursonne weint,
    will sie in die Gondel steigen und will ganz woanders sein.
    Wo die Palmen sich verneigen, wo die Purpursonne weint,
    will sie in die Gondel steigen und will ganz woanders sein.

    Sie hat ein Zimmer an der Ecke, wo die Eisenbahnen schrein.
    Kurzer Lichtschein an der Decke und sie will woanders sein.
    Wenn die Leinwandsterne funkeln, packt sie Keks und Kleingeld ein,
    gönnt sich eine Liebesperle und sie will woanders sein.

    Wo die Palmen sich verneigen...

    Wo die Palmen sich verneigen...



    Silly: Mont Klamott

    Mitten in der City, zwischen Staub und Straßenlärm,
    Wächst ne grüne Beule aus'm Stadtgedärm.
    Dort hängen wir zum Weekend die Lungen in den Wind
    Bis ihre schlappen Flügel so richtig durchgelüftet sind.

    Neulich sitz ich mit 'ner alten Dame auf der Bank.
    Wir reden über dies und das, da sag ich: Gott sei Dank,
    Da ist ihnen mal was einfgefallen, den Vätern dieser Stadt,
    Dass unsereins 'n bissel frische Luft zum Atmen hat.

    Mont Klamott - Auf'm Dach von Berlin,
    Mont Klamott - Sind die Wiesen so grün,
    Mont Klamott - Auf'm Dach von Berlin.

    Die alte Dame lächelt matt:
    Lass sie ruhn, die Väter dieser Stadt,
    Die sind so tot seit Deutschlands Himmelfahrt...
    Die Mütter dieser Stadt hab'n den Berg zusamm'gekarrt.

    Mont Klamott - Auf'm Dach von Berlin,
    Mont Klamott - Sind die Wiesen so grün,
    Mont Klamott - Auf'm Dach von Berlin,
    Mont Klamott - Sind die Wiesen so grün.



    Karat: Falscher Glanz

    Unten am See zogen Schiffe vorbei,
    wir lagen im Sand, und wir fühlten uns frei.
    Es war die Glut deiner Augen am Strand,
    die ich gespürt, als dein Blick mich verbrannt.
    Sommernachtstraum, doch ein Wort das so klang,
    wie klirrendes Glas, das auf Steinen zersprang.
    Im Anfang war ich vor Verlangen ganz blind,
    die Zweifel schlug ich allesamt in den Wind.

    Wir waren vereint eine einzige Nacht,
    dann hast du mir kalt in die Augen gelacht.
    Du liebtest das Geld, das ein andrer besaß,
    und du hast dich verkauft wie ein kostbares Glas.

    Fühlst du dich wohl zwischen Seide und Samt,
    wenn du dich betrügst mit dem Gold an der Hand?
    Du folgst nur dem Glanz, und der Schein macht dich blind,
    die Zweifel schlägst du allesamt in den Wind.

    Wir waren vereint eine einzige Nacht,
    dann hast du mir kalt in die Augen gelacht.
    Du liebtest das Geld, das ein andrer besaß,
    und du hast dich verkauft wie ein kostbares Glas.



    Karat: Mich zwingt keiner auf die Knie

    Man kann mich haun,
    ich werd nicht schrein.
    Betrügen auch,
    mit Glanz und Schein.
    Ich kann verliern,
    das was mir gehört,
    mich zwingt keiner auf die Knie,
    keiner auf die Knie.

    Verbieten dass,
    man lacht und weint.
    Zerbrechen was,
    uns einmal vereint.
    Gewalt und Hass
    nehm ich in Kauf,
    mich zwingt keiner auf die Knie,
    keiner auf die Knie.

    Ich möchte wissen,
    wer meine Freunde sind.
    Ich möchte wissen,
    wer hinter mir und vor mir geht.
    Ich möchte wissen,
    wer an meinem Schicksal dreht,
    denn mich zwingt keiner auf die Knie.
    Mich zwingt keiner auf die Kne.

    Ein Wort von dir,
    das mich veletzt,
    wirft mich nicht um,
    auch wenn es schmerzt.
    Ich geb nicht auf
    und sing mein Lied.
    Mich zwingt keiner auf die Knie,
    keiner auf die Knie.

    Ich möchte wissen...

  11. #10
    Benutzerbild von Bounty

    Registriert seit
    07.04.2003
    Beiträge
    4.033
    wie könnts anders sein, meiner is von U2
    ...da ballt sich jedes mal aufs neue die faust (in der tasche)


    Like A Song

    Like a song I have to sing
    I sing it for you.
    Like the words I have to bring
    I bring it for you.

    And in leather, lace and chains we stake our claim.
    Revolution once again
    No I won't, I won't wear it on my sleeve.
    I can see through this expression and you know I don't believe.
    Too old to be told, exactly who are you?
    Tonight, tomorrow's too late.

    And we love to wear a badge, a uniform
    And we love to fly a flag
    But I won't let others live in hell
    As we divide against each other
    And we fight amongst ourselves
    Too set in our ways to try to rearrange
    Too right to be wrong, in this rebel song
    Let the bells ring out
    Let the bells ring out
    Is there nothing left?
    Is there, is there nothing?
    Is there nothing left?
    Is honesty what you want?

    A generation without name, ripped and torn
    Nothing to lose, nothing to gain
    Nothing at all
    And if you can't help yourself
    Well take a look around you
    When others need your time
    You say it's time to go... it's your time.
    Angry words won't stop the fight
    Two wrongs won't make it right.
    A new heart is what I need.
    Oh, God make it bleed.
    Is there nothing left?

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