njn, to je ta politizace umění nácci se inspirovali a přebírali za svoje všechno možný jenom aby to podpořilo propagandu

Jeden muj oblibeny text, pisnicka se jmenuje Carolina Drama od kapely The Raconteurs, text skladal Jack White:

I'm not sure if there's a point to this story
But I'm going to tell it again
So many other people try to tell the tale
Not one of them knows the end

It was a junk-house in South Carolina
Held a boy the age of ten
Along with his older brother Billy
And the mother and her boyfriend
Who was a triple loser with some blue tattoos
That were given to him when he was young
And a drunk temper that was easy to lose
And thank god he didn't own a gun

Well, Billy woke up in the back of his truck
Took a minute to open his eyes
He took a peep into the back of the house
And found himself a big surprise
He didn't see his brother but there was his mother
With her red-headed head in her hands
While the boyfriend had his gloves wrapped around an old priest
Trying to choke the man


Billy looked up from the window to the truck
Threw up, and had to struggle to stand
He saw that red-necked bastard with a hammer
Turn the priest into a shell of a man
The priest was putting up the fight of his life
But he was old and he was bound to lose
The boyfriend hit as hard as he could
And knocked the priest right down to his shoes

Well, now Billy knew but never actually met
The preacher lying there in the room
He heard himself say, 'That must be my daddy'
Then he knew what he was gonna do
Billy got up enough courage, took it up
And grabbed the first blunt thing he could find
It was a cold glass bottle of milk
That got delivered every morning at nine


Billy broke in and saw the blood on the floor,
And he turned around and put the lock on the door
He looked dead into the boyfriend's eye
His mother was a ghost, too upset to cry
Then he took a step toward the man on the ground
From his mouth trickled out a little audible sound
He heard the boyfriend shout, 'Get out!'
And Billy said, 'Not till I know what this is all about'
'Well, this preacher here was attacking your mama'
But Billy knew that she was caught in the drama
So Billy took dead aim at his face
And smashed the bottle on the man who left his dad in disgrace
And the white milk dripped down with the blood
And the boyfriend fell down dead for good
Right next to the preacher who was gasping for air
And Billy shouted, 'Daddy, why'd you have to come back here?'
His mama reached behind the sugar and honey
And pulled out an envelope filled with money
'Your daddy gave us this', she collapsed in tears
'He's been paying all the bills for years'
'Mama, let's put this body underneath the trees
And put Daddy in the truck and head to Tennessee'
Just then, his little brother came in
Holding the milkman's hat and a bottle of gin

Singing lalala lalala yeah,
Lalala lalala yeah,
Lalala lalala

Well now you heard another side to the story
But you wanna know how it ends?
If you must know the truth about the tale
Go and ask the milkman



Ten konec me dostava


edit: rovnou prihodim i pisnicku


Animace si nevsimejte, ta k tomu nepatri, ale jinak jsem to nenasel

snažila som sa to preložiť ale je toho na mňa veľa...

Mne se zda ten text vcelku jednoduchy... Ale je dlouhy, to jo. On je to takovy pribeh, no... Ale prekladat ti to nebo vypravet, o cem to je, by nebylo ono, to by ztratilo to caro...

Tak jo, tak jeste dva me oblibene texty:

Pisnicka Last Kiss, slova napsal Wayne Cochran, puvodne ji nahrala kapela C.C. Riders, pozdeji proslavili J. Frank Wilson and the Cavaliers, ale ja miluji cover od Pearl Jam.

Oh where, oh where, can my baby be?
The Lord took her away from me
She's gone to heaven, so I've got to be good
So I can see my baby when I leave this world

We were out on a date in my daddy's car
We hadn't driven very far
There in the road, straight ahead
A car was stalled, the engine was dead

I couldn't stop, so I swerved to the right
I'll never forget the sound that night
The screamin' tires, the bustin' glass
The painful scream that I heard last

Oh where, oh where, can my baby be?
The Lord took her away from me
She's gone to heaven, so I've got to be good
So I can see my baby when I leave this world

When I woke up the rain was pourin' down
There were people standing all around
Something warm flowin' through my eyes
But somehow I found my baby that night
I lifted her head, she looked at me and said,
Hold me darling, just a little while
I held her close, I kissed her our last kiss
I found the love that I knew I had missed.

Well now she's gone
and even though I hold her tight
I lost my love, my life, that night.

Oh where, oh where, can my baby be?
The Lord took her away from me
She's gone to heaven, so I've got to be good
So I can see my baby when I leave this world



A jeste jedna, tentokrat puvodni od Pearl Jam, slova napsal Eddie Vedder, pisnicka se jmenuje Black.

Sheets of empty canvas, untouched sheets of clay
Were laid spread out before me as her body once did
All five horizons revolved around her soul
As the earth to the sun
Now the air i tasted and breathed has taken a turn

Oh, and all i taught her was everything
Oh, I know she gave me all that she wore

And now my bitter hands shake beneath the clouds
Of what was everything
all the pictures had all been washed in black, tattooed everything...

I take a walk outside, i'm surrounded by some kids at play
I can feel their laughter, so why do i sear?
Oh, and twisted thoughts that spin round my head
I'm spinning, oh, I'm spinning
How quick the sun can, drop away

And now my bitter hands cradle broken glass
Of what was everything
All the pictures had all been washed in black, tattooed everything...

All the love gone bad, turned my world to black
Tattooed all i see, all that i am, all i'll ever be...

I know someday you'll have a beautiful life,
I know you'll be a star
In somebody else's sky, but why, why,
why can't it be, why can't it be mine?

huh maxi ty to tady zásobuješ ... ten první příběh je dobrej sem byl zvědavej jak to zhudebnil a je to dost dobrý...

katuš: je to o jednym domě v jižní karolíně, kde žil desetiletej kluk a jeho starší brácha spolu s jejich matkou a jejím přítelem... no a ten starší brácha se jednou zbudil v autě, šel za dům a tam ten přítel té matky škrtil nějakýho kněze a pak si na něj vzal kladivo... tak ten kluk tam začal zvracet myslim no a pak si uvědomil, že ten kněz je určitě jeho otec, tak vzal první tupej předmět kterej našel, což byla sklínka s mlíkem na schodech od mlíkaře no a tou zabil toho přítele té matky... a pak tam došel ten mladší brácha s mlíkařovou čepicou a flaškou Ginu a zpíval si... no a pokud chceš znát konec... tak se zeptej mlíkaře (to sem si nevymyslel, to tam fakt je )

Druhej text taky pěknej... takový zajímavě pozitivně je to pojatý ten song

no a třetí jeden z mých nejoblíbenějších... ale text sem četl poprvý a krása... Vadder je neuvěřitelnej zpěvák

Souhlas ve vsech bodech

Ale jak jsem rikal, kdyz se Carolina Drama takhle popise, tak to nema to kouzlo...
Takove ty verse jako:
He heard the boyfriend shout, 'Get out!'
And Billy said, 'Not till I know what this is all about'
a tak A hlavne se clovek nevzije do tech, na tak malem prostoru, dobre vykreslenych postav... Vzdycky, kdyz tu pisnicku posloucham, tak si to uplne zive predstavuji, jak to tam probiha

A v Black miluji uplne ten konec:
I know someday you'll have a beautiful life,
I know you'll be a star in somebody else's sky, but why
Why, why can't it be, can't it be mine

Pozdeji jeste neco prihodim, zrovna si ale na nic nemuzu vzpomenout

a jak to vyslo

jedna z mych nej od Orliku

V době kdy národ zmírá hlady
s Orlíkem jsme zase tady
přišli jsme vás potěšit jsme dobráci od kosti
jak jsme známí, tak jsme krásní
jak jsme krásní, tak jsme chytří
naše písně jsou studnice moudrosti.
Jsme mladí, krásní, a inteligentní
každý nás bude mít rád
jestli se rozlobíme nebudem zlí
možná se budeme i smát.
Zpívám rád a to je na mě doufám nasrat.
Trička, placky, dobrej nápad
a s prachama na slávě chrápat
a mít všude narvaný sály.
Pozornosti prej jsme středem
jedem jenom do prdele z medem
takhle ste nás vy kurvy málem dostali.
Jsme blbí, krásní,inteligentní každej nás musí mít rád
jestli se rozzlobíme budeme zlí.
Zpívám rád a to je na mě doufám nasrat.
Asi se budeme rvát.
Jsme fašisti a rasisti a husiti a budhisti
smažíme si děti k večeři
nehlásejte už tyhle bludy
dyť jste pořád stejně nudný
vašim kydům nikdo nevěří.
Jsme mladí, krásní, inteligentní každej nás musí mít rád
jestli se rozzlobíme budeme zlí.
Zpívám rád a to je na mě doufám nasrat.

a landa

Vzpomínáš si na ty plány, když ti zdarma někdo svobodu dal.
Psal se listopad sametovejch slov a nikdo náhodě nic nenechal.
V čele byly ideály jak to tak bejvá,
na náměstí davy stály a v nich se skrejval i strach,
kterej už tak dávno sídlil v dušičkách.

Možná, že jenom spíš, a pak se probudíš.
A těch pár let, to byl jen zlej sen.
Možná už procitáš, modřiny počítáš.
A jako pštros schováš tvář pod polštář.

Dávno ti do prachu spadly růžový brýle.
Pravda, láska a tak dál, šly stranou kvůli zlatý žíle.
Zbortily se ideály, to nám patří,
dobře nás vychovali rudý bratři
a tak strach se zase usazuje v dušičkách.

Možná, že jenom spíš, a pak se probudíš.
A těch pár let, to byl jen zlej sen.
Možná už procitáš, modřiny počítáš.
A jako pštros schováš tvář pod polštář.