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Arxiu de la categoria: directes

* Janis Joplin

Publicat el 12 de juny de 2007 per frap

Uff! Hi ha alguna cosa a dir?

Maybe


Maybe


Oh if I could pray and I try, dear,


You might come back home, home to me.




Maybe


Whoa, if I could ever hold your little hand


Oh you might understand.


Maybe, maybe, maybe, maybe, yeah.




Maybe, maybe, maybe, maybe, maybe dear


I guess I might have done something wrong,


Honey I’d be glad to admit it.


Oh, come on home to me!


Honey maybe, maybe, maybe, maybe yeah.




Well I know that it just doesn’t ever seem to matter, baby,


Oh honey, when I go out or what I’m trying to do,


Can’t you see I’m still left here


And I’m holding on in needing you.




Please, please, please, please,


Oh don’t you reconsider babe.


Now come on, I said come back,


Won’t you come back to me!




Maybe dear, oh maybe, maybe, maybe,


Let me help you show me how.


Honey, maybe, maybe, maybe, maybe,


Maybe, maybe, maybe, yeah,


Maybe, maybe, maybe, yeah.


Ooh!

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* Damien Rice

Publicat el 3 de juny de 2007 per frap

Després d’escoltar aquesta cançó hi ha poques coses que es puguin escoltar que no sigui el silenci durant una estona. Quina intensitat!


I Remember

I remember it well

The first time that I saw

Your head around the door

‘Cause mine stopped working



I remember it well

There was wet in your hair

I was stood in stare

And time stopped moving



I want you here tonight

I want you here

‘Cause I can’t believe what I found

I want you here tonight want you here

Nothing is taking me down, down, down…



I remember it well

Taxied out of a storm

To watch you perform

And my ships were sailing



I remember it well

I was stood in your line

And your mouth, your mouth, your mouth…



I want you here tonight

I want you here

‘Cause I can’t believe what I found

I want you here tonight want you here

Nothing is taking me down, down, down…



Except you my love. Except you my love…



Come all ye lost

Dive into moss

And hope that my sanity covers the cost

To remove the stain of my love

In paper mache



Come all ye reborn

Blow off my horn

I’m driving real hard

This isn’t love, this is porn

God will forgive me

But I, I whip myself in scorn, scorn



I wanna hear what you have to say about me

Hear if you’re gonna live without me

I wanna hear what you want

I remember December

And I wanna hear what you have to say about me

Hear if you’re gonna live without me

I wanna hear what you want

What the hell do you want?

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* Jeff Buckley

Publicat el 21 de maig de 2007 per frap

Un dia vaig posar la cançó original de Leonard Cohen, avui poso aquesta versió de Jeff Buckley.

Ho escolto i només puc dir: Aleluia!… amen.

Hallelujah

Una original d’aquest cantautor. Imponent a partir de que falta 1 minut 20 segons perquè acabi la cançó.

Grace

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* David Bowie

Publicat el 15 de maig de 2007 per frap

Yeaaahhhh!!!


Queen Bitch


I’m up on the eleventh floor
And I’m watching the cruisers below
He’s down on the street
And he’s trying hard
to pull sister Flo
My heart’s in the basement
My weekend’s at an all time low

‘Cause she’s hoping to score
So I can’t see her
letting him go
Walk out of her heart
Walk out of her mind

She’s so swishy in her satin and tat
In her frock coat
and bipperty-bopperty hat
Oh God, I could do better than that

She’s an old-time ambassador
Of sweet talking, night walking games
And she’s known in the darkest clubs
For pushing ahead of the dames
If she says she can do it
Then she can do it,
she don’t make false claims
But she’s a Queen,
and such are queens
That your laughter
is sucked in their brains
Now she’s leading him on
And she’ll lay him right down
But it could have been me
Yes, it could have been me
Why didn’t I say,
why didn’t I say, no, no, no

She’s so swishy in her satin and tat
In her frock coat
and bipperty-bopperty hat
Oh God, I could do better than that

So I lay down a while
And I gaze at my hotel wall
Oh the cot is so cold
It don’t feel like no bed at all
Yeah I lay down a while
And I gaze at my hotel wall
But he’s down on the street
So I throw both his bags down the hall
And I’m phoning a cab
‘Cause my stomach feels small
There’s a taste in my mouth
And it’s no taste at all

It could have been me
Oh yeah, it could have been me
Why didn’t I say,
Why didn’t I say, no, no, no

She’s so swishy in her satin and tat
In her frock coat
and bipperty-bopperty hat
Oh God, I could do better than that

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