C'est à peu près 120 piasses la tonne. Grosso modo c'est 80 si tu remplis ton pick-up. Ça, c'est pour la scrap scrap. Pour une scrap qui a de l'allure, c'est plus ou moins 4 piasses la livre. Cop, aluminium. Vous pouvez ben courir les poteaux. Moi, la scrap scrap, ça me plaît.

6.11.09

SUCCESSION DE SONS

De la musique contre les conflits.

C'est une belle idée.

Une belle idée trouvée ici et , chez des gens dont j'apprécie l'humanité honnête et la personnalité.

Masters of War de Bob Dylan.

Chantée par Eddie Vedder v'là longtemps, à l'époque où je l'aimais bien.




Masters Of War

Come you masters of war
You that build all the guns
You that build the death planes
You that build the big bombs
You that hide behind walls
You that hide behind desks
I just want you to know
I can see through your masks

You that never done nothin'
But build to destroy
You play with my world
Like it's your little toy
You put a gun in my hand
And you hide from my eyes
And you turn and run farther
When the fast bullets fly

Like Judas of old
You lie and deceive
A world war can be won
You want me to believe
But I see through your eyes
And I see through your brain
Like I see through the water
That runs down my drain

You fasten the triggers
For the others to fire
Then you set back and watch
When the death count gets higher
You hide in your mansion
As young people's blood
Flows out of their bodies
And is buried in the mud

You've thrown the worst fear
That can ever be hurled
Fear to bring children
Into the world
For threatening my baby
Unborn and unnamed
You ain't worth the blood
That runs in your veins

How much do I know
To talk out of turn
You might say that I'm young
You might say I'm unlearned
But there's one thing I know
Though I'm younger than you
Even Jesus would never
Forgive what you do

Let me ask you one question
Is your money that good
Will it buy you forgiveness
Do you think that it could
I think you will find
When your death takes its toll
All the money you made
Will never buy back your soul

And I hope that you die
And your death'll come soon
I will follow your casket
In the pale afternoon
And I'll watch while you're lowered
Down to your deathbed
And I'll stand o'er your grave
'Til I'm sure that you're dead

MASTERS OF WAR ALBUM : "THE FREEWHEELIN' BOB DYLAN" - 1963


Cheers, pis bonne fin de semaine. J'vous aime.

Chuis brûlée, déjà pétée.
Mais pas chuis pas encore morte du H1NÉ.

10 commentaires:

Yvan a dit…

Cheers to you Sandy,
bon week end!

Très fortes ces paroles...

posthume a dit…

petite mère, t'apprécie, te rend la pareille :

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zTDNx_iaM6Q

God said don't give me your
Tin horn prayers
Don't buy roses off the street down there
Took it all and took the dirt road home
Dreaming of Jenny with the light brown hair
Night is falling like a bloody axe
Lies and rumors and the wind at my back
Hand on the wheel gravel on the road
Will the pawn shop sell me back what I sold

I'm gonna take the sins of my father
I'm gonna take the sins of my mother
I"m gonna take the sins of my brother
Down to the pond

Birds cry warning from a hidden branch
Carving out a future with a gun and an axe
I'm way beyond the gavel and the laws of man
Still living in the palm of the grace of your hand
The worlds not easy the blind man said
Turns on nothing but money and dread
Dogs been scratching at the door all nite
Long neck birds flying out of the moon light

I'm gonna take the sins of my father
I'm gonna take the sins of my mother
I"m gonna take the sins of my brother
Down to the pond

Smack dab in the middle of a dirty lie
The star spangled glitter of his one good eye
Everybody knows that the game was rigged
Justice wears suspenders and a powdered wig
Dark town alleys been hiding you
Long bell tolling is your waterloo
Oh baby what can you do
Does the light of god blind you
Or lead the way home for you?

I'm gonna take the sins of my father
I'm gonna take the sins of my mother
I"m gonna take the sins of my brother
Down to the pond

God all mighty for righteousness sake
Humiliation of our fallen state
Written in the book of tubold Cain
A long black over coat will show no stain
Feel the heat and the burn on your back
The rip and the moan and the stretch of the rack
All my belongings in a flour sack
Will the place I come from
Take me back

I'm gonna take the sins of my father
I'm gonna take the sins of my mother
I"m gonna take the sins of my brother
Down to the pond

They'll hang me in the morning on a scaffold yea big
To dance upon nothing to the tyborn jig
Treats you like a puppet when your under its spell
Oh the heart is heaven
But the mind is hell
Jesus of Nazareth told Mike of the weeds
I's born at this time for a reason you see
When I'm dead I"ll be dead a long time
But the wines so pleasing and so sublime

I'm gonna take the sins of my father
I'm gonna take the sins of my mother
I"m gonna take the sins of my brother
Down to the pond

Kissed my sweetheart by the chinaball tree
Everything I done is between God and me
Only he will judge how my time was spent
29 days of sinning and 40 to repent
The horse is steady but the horse is blind
Wicked are the branches on the tree of mankind
The roots grow upwared and the branches grow down
Its much too late to throw the dice again I've found

I'm gonna take the sins of my father
I'm gonna take the sins of my mother
I"m gonna take the sins of my brother
Down to the pond

I'm gonna wash them [2x]
I'm gonna wash the sins of my Father
I'm gonna wash the sins of my Mother
I'm gonna wash the sins of my Brother
Till the water runs clear [2x]

...

tiens toi droite, et apprécie ce qui reste

bise (colle ta joue timide contre ma mort promise, ensemble, bise)

Gomeux a dit…

T'as pas idée comment ça fait du bien de lire et entendre ça, maintenant, ce soir.
Merci, bella.
How much do I know
To talk out of turn

C'est pas mal mon feeling là, là.
Je viens de passer ma soirée avec des amies à nous, travaillant en santé.
Pas moyen de leur faire comprendre que ce que je revendique, c'est le droit de penser par moi même, en dehors des dogmes...
Et ça m'attriste, eh.
Je dois être fou, je vois plus la différence entre un vaccin, une guerre, un char, et une claque sua yeule d'un gros beu.

Heureusement, y a encore des endroits comme ici. Pleins d'humanité honnête.

_&_ a dit…

:0)

posthume a dit…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l-ht_9TIAD8

É. a dit…

Coucou !

helenablue a dit…

Belle idée indeed...
Puissantes ces paroles en effet,comme dit Gomeux heureusement qu'il y a des endroits comme icitte plein d'humanité franche et directe...
M'y sens bien, chez toi,Sandy!

Love.
Blue

s.gordon a dit…

:)

Thee Eggman a dit…

t'aime bien sandra, tu le sais trop, allé, va, come au BON VIEUX TEMPS :

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_3WaIFPwtpQ

I say YES... to nuthin

Thee Eggman a dit…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hmC1Fu1MoKk