Em 1978 Michel Sardou éditou esta canção que eu considero uma grande lição de vida pois como diz o Povo: «Quem canta seus males espanta». Muito vezes sentimos que para um certo probléma não temos solução e depois de ouvir uma canção a nossa mente clareia e encontramos uma alternativa
Quand j'étais petit garçon Je repassais mes leçons En chantant Et bien des années plus tard Je chassais mes idées noires En chantant C'est beaucoup moins inquiétant De parler du mauvais temps En chantant Et c'est tellement plus mignon De se faire traiter de con En chanson
La vie c'est plus marrant C'est moins désespérant En chantant
La première fille de ma vie Dans la rue je l'ai suivie En chantant Quand elle s'est déshabillée J'ai joué le vieil habitué En chantant J'étais si content de moi Que j'ai fait l'amour dix fois En chantant Mais je n'peux pas m'expliquer Qu'au matin elle m'ait quitté Enchantée
L'amour c'est plus marrant C'est moins désespérant En chantant
Tout les hommes vont en galère A la pêche ou à la guerre En chantant La fleur au bout du fusil La victoire se gagne aussi En chantant On ne parle à Jéhovah A Jupiter à Boudha Qu'en chantant Qu'elles que soient nos opinions On fait sa révolution En chanson
Le monde est plus marrant C'est moins désespérant En chantant
Puisqu'il faut mourir enfin Que ce soit côté jardin En chantant Si ma femme a de la peine Que mes enfants la soutiennent En chantant Quand j'irai revoir mon père Qui m'attend les bras ouverts En chantant J'aimerais que sur la terre Tous mes bons copains m'enterrent En chantant
La mort c'est plus marrant C'est moins désespérant En chantant
Quand j'étais petit garçon Je repassais mes leçons En chantant Et bien des années plus tard Je chassais mes idées noires En chantant C'est beaucoup moins inquiétant De parler du mauvais temps En chantant Et c'est tellement plus mignon De se faire traiter de con En chanson
"American pie" é uma canção de Don Mc Lean do album "American pie" de 1971 que atingiu o top em 1972 a cançã é uma homenagem Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens, e J. P. Richardson (The Big Bopper) que perderam a vida no acidente de avião a 3 de fevereiro de 1959
A long, long time ago... I can still remember How that music used to make me smile. And I knew if I had my chance That I could make those people dance And, maybe, they'd be happy for a while.
But february made me shiver With every paper I'd deliver. Bad news on the doorstep; I couldn't take one more step.
I can't remember if I cried When I read about his widowed bride, But something touched me deep inside The day the music died.
So bye-bye, miss american pie. Drove my chevy to the levee, But the levee was dry. And them good old boys were drinkin' whiskey and rye Singin', "this'll be the day that I die. "this'll be the day that I die."
Did you write the book of love, And do you have faith in God above, If the Bible tells you so? Do you believe in rock 'n roll, Can music save your mortal soul, And can you teach me how to dance real slow?
Well, I know that you're in love with him `cause I saw you dancin' in the gym. You both kicked off your shoes. Man, I dig those rhythm and blues.
I was a lonely teenage broncin' buck With a pink carnation and a pickup truck, But I knew I was out of luck The day the music died.
I started singin', "bye-bye, miss american pie." Drove my chevy to the levee, But the levee was dry. Them good old boys were drinkin' whiskey and rye And singin', "this'll be the day that I die. "this'll be the day that I die."
Now for ten years we've been on our own And moss grows fat on a rollin' stone, But that's not how it used to be. When the jester sang for the king and queen, In a coat he borrowed from james dean And a voice that came from you and me,
Oh, and while the king was looking down, The jester stole his thorny crown. The courtroom was adjourned; No verdict was returned. And while lennon read a book of marx, The quartet practiced in the park, And we sang dirges in the dark The day the music died.
We were singing, "bye-bye, miss american pie." Drove my chevy to the levee, But the levee was dry. Them good old boys were drinkin' whiskey and rye And singin', "this'll be the day that I die. "this'll be the day that I die."
Helter skelter in a summer swelter. The birds flew off with a fallout shelter, Eight miles high and falling fast. It landed foul on the grass. The players tried for a forward pass, With the jester on the sidelines in a cast.
Now the half-time air was sweet perfume While the sergeants played a marching tune. We all got up to dance, Oh, but we never got the chance! `cause the players tried to take the field; The marching band refused to yield. Do you recall what was revealed The day the music died?
We started singing, "bye-bye, miss american pie." Drove my chevy to the levee, But the levee was dry. Them good old boys were drinkin' whiskey and rye And singin', "this'll be the day that I die. "this'll be the day that I die."
Oh, and there we were all in one place, A generation lost in space With no time left to start again. So come on: jack be nimble, jack be quick! Jack flash sat on a candlestick Cause fire is the devil's only friend.
Oh, and as I watched him on the stage My hands were clenched in fists of rage. No angel born in hell Could break that satan's spell. And as the flames climbed high into the night To light the sacrificial rite, I saw satan laughing with delight The day the music died
He was singing, "bye-bye, miss american pie." Drove my chevy to the levee, But the levee was dry. Them good old boys were drinkin' whiskey and rye And singin', "this'll be the day that I die. "this'll be the day that I die."
I met a girl who sang the blues And I asked her for some happy news, But she just smiled and turned away. I went down to the sacred store Where I'd heard the music years before, But the man there said the music wouldn't play.
And in the streets: the children screamed, The lovers cried, and the poets dreamed. But not a word was spoken; The church bells all were broken. And the three men I admire most: The father, son, and the holy ghost, They caught the last train for the coast The day the music died.
And they were singing, "bye-bye, miss american pie." Drove my chevy to the levee, But the levee was dry. And them good old boys were drinkin' whiskey and rye Singin', "this'll be the day that I die. "this'll be the day that I die."
They were singing, "bye-bye, miss american pie." Drove my chevy to the levee, But the levee was dry. Them good old boys were drinkin' whiskey and rye Singin', "this'll be the day that I die."
When you're falling awake and you take stock of the new day, And you hear your voice croak as you choke on what you need to say, Well, dont you fret, dont you fear, I will give you good cheer.
Life's a long song. Life's a long song. Life's a long song.
If you wait then your plate I will fill.
As the verses unfold and your soul suffers the long day, And the twelve oclock gloom spins the room, You struggle on your way. Well, dont you sigh, dont you cry, Lick the dust from your eye.
Life's a long song. Life's a long song. Life's a long song.
We will meet in the sweet light of dawn.
As the baker street train spills your pain all over your new dress, And the symphony sounds underground put you under duress, Well dont you squeal as the heel grinds you under the wheel.
Life's a long song. Life's a long song. Life's a long song.
Esta não bem a minha céna mas como é de Olhão e tem qualidade não quero deixar de divulgar
Girassol
Sócrates aparece rodeado por uma autêntica corola de mulheres, 6 delas. São as pétalas de um Primeiro-Ministro. França teve o seu Rei-Sol e a nós, subliminarmente, dão-nos o girassol, metáfora que vem acrescida de uma dimensão gravitacional de significado profundo - tudo gira em torno de Sócrates.