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Friday, 28 November 2014
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Listen Ethiopian Legend Gospel Singer Dereje Kebede's song 3


Lyrics

My Son (Imagine This)

When Billy had just turned eight,
he was all alone on a boat
by his house on a lake.
He laid back, as he closed his eyes,
and he drifted off to sleep.
He awoke to the sound of crashing waves.
His boat was a million miles away.
And just when he thought he'd seen the end,
he heard his father's voice again.
He said...

Chorus:
Son, just take my hand.
Rest your feet on solid land.
Keep your eyes laid on me.
Don't be swayed by the sea,
and I will lead you home.

You know that I live for you,
but sometimes I get caught
in the storm and I fall.
You know when I'm in that boat,
and the world comes seeping in.
Sometimes I start sinking in the sea.
Sometimes I'm in way too deep for me.
Sometimes when I'm crying out for fear,
I hear you whisper in my ear.
You say...

Repeat Chorus

Rotting Garden (Grendel)

Cot deaths emerging
Accidents and catastrophes
Houses are burning
Those loaded guns
These playful hands
Their wrists are bleeding
Onto kitchen floors
So bring forth all your dying daughters
So bring forth all your dying sons

Leave your children at the rotting garden
Hear them scream and hear them play
Leave your children at the rotting garden
A monument for all their latter days

The Rotting Garden

See them placed on benches
See them collapse and fold
Dead children floating
In the waters cold
See their flesh corroding
In the summer sun
So bring forth all your dying daughters
So bring forth all your dying sons

Leave your children at the rotting garden
Hear them scream and hear them play
Leave your children at the rotting garden
A monument for all their latter days

The Rotting Garden

Can you hear them screaming?
Can you hear them play?
There is no life round here
Only tears and remembering
Cold bones embrace the mud
Disappearing in the summer sun
So bring forth all your dying daughters
So bring forth all your dying sons

Leave your children at the rotting garden
Hear them scream and hear them play
Leave your children at the rotting garden
A monument for all their latter days

Rex Irae (Requiem: Overture - Fourth Version) (Celtic Frost)

[INTRODUCTION: Rex Irae ...]
[DREAM ENCOUNTER:(King Wrath)(Dream Voice)]

You ...... have joined your father's feast
Those who saw: Essence or fall
Floods of dramatic silence
And words, from whom we don't know

[OVERTURE/KING WRATH:]

Let me dream ...
Flee from false ...
I have tasted the weight of lust
My hands on the skein of height
... A pallid death
Mirage into dark
The horizons echo your glance
Following a detractive sleep
I am the wrath beneath the heavens
The downfall's monologue
Fallen into the vision of effect
Quiet as gods can be
(Joining the king's words)Orgies of fear
lnbreeding and death
I have walked Carthagia's sands
l've touched those buried walls
I am the ...
All mortal is love?
Remembrance has won
Breathing glorified innonce
Quiescence has died therefore
I am the ...

[REMEMBRANCE I:]

We stood before the portals of Babylon
And saw it's petrified fall
... Have seen your decline's symbols
But carried another life
We tasted the wine of Persepolis,
As mute as our era's breath
Death was never a fragment of
Exalting fantasy ...

[REMEMBRANCE III (?):]

This last region - Last of fire
Orgasmic cries - Tears and words
Wrath and strenght - Oh, gods! For you!
Before the throne ... - Death

[OVERTURE: FINALE:]

Fright and praise
A faded light
Intimate rests my book
Unwritten what seems true
I am the ...
Art of might!
You remaining king
Take your predesessor's hand
You son of my Jade gift ...
I am the ...

Piccola Stella Senza Cielo (Ligabue)

Cosa ci fai in mezzo a tutta questa gente
Sei tu che vuoi
Spiazzati da una luce senza futuro
O in fin dei conti non ti frega niente
Tanti ti cercano
Altri si allungano
Vorrebbero tenerti nel loro buio
Ti brucerai

Ti mostrerai
Piccola stella senza cielo
Ci incanteremo mentre scoppi in volo
Ti scioglierai
Dietro una scia, un soffio, un velo
Ti staccherai
Perché ti tiene su soltanto un filo lo sai

Tieniti su
Le altre stelle son disposte
A volte credi non ti basti
Solo che tu
Che ti si chiuderanno gli occhi ancora
Forse capiterà
O soltanto sarà
Una parentesi di una mezz’ora

Ti brucerai
Piccola stella senza cielo
Ti mostrerai
Ci incanteremo mentre scoppi in volo
Ti scioglierai
Dietro una scia, un soffio, un velo
Ti staccherai
Perché ti tiene su soltanto un filo lo sai

Ti brucerai
Ti mostrerai
Piccola stella senza cielo
Ti scioglierai
Ci incanteremo mentre scoppi in volo
Ti staccherai
Dietro una scia, un soffio, un velo
Perché ti tiene su soltanto un filo lo sai

Dos Cruces (Nana Mouskouri)

Sevilla tuvo que ser
Con su lunita estrellada
Testigo de nuestro amor
Bajo la noche calalda.
Y nos quisimos los dos
Con un amor sin pecado,
Pero el destino ha querido
Que vivamos separados.

Estan clavadas dos cruces
En el monte del olvido
Por dos amores que han muerto
Sin haberse comprendido.
Estan clavadas dos cruces
En el monte del olvido
Por dos amores que han muerto
Que son el tuyo y el mio.

¡Ay! barrio de Santa Cruz
¡Ay! plaza de Doña Elvira
Os vuelvo yo a recordar
Y me parece mentira
Ya todo aquello pasó,
Todo quedó en el olvido
Nuestras promesas de amores
En el aire se han perdido.

Estan clavadas dos cruces
En el monte del olvido
Por dos amores que han muerto
Sin haberse comprendido.
Estan clavadas dos cruces
En el monte del olvido
Por dos amores que han muerto
Que son el tuyo y el mio.


Que son el tuyo y el mio.

En Aranjuez Con Mi Amor (Nana Mouskouri)

Junto a ti, al pasar las horas oh mi amor
Hay un rumor de fuente de cristal
Que en el jardín parece hablar
En voz baja a las rosas

Dulce amor, esas hojas secas sin color
Que barre el viento
Son recuerdos de romances de un ayer
Huellas y promesas hechas con amor, en Aranjuez
Entre un hombre y una mujer, en un atardecer
Que siempre se recuerda

Oh mi amor, mientras dos se quieran con fervor
No dejarán las flores de brillar
Ni ha de faltar al mundo paz, ni calor a la tierra
Yo sé bien que hay palabras huecas, sin amor
Que lleva el viento, y que nadie las oyó con atención
Pero otras palabras suenan, oh mi amor al corazón
Como notas de canto nupcial, y así te quiero hablar
Si en Aranjuez me esperas

Luego al caer la tarde se escucha un rumor
Es la fuente que allí parece hablar con las rosas

En Aranjuez, con tu amor

Estoy Podrido (Segismundo Toxicómano)

Hay muchos grupos en la escena alternativa
Lo tienen claro y ni siquiera saben kienes son
Siguen parámetros por todos conocidos
Y dicen cualkier cosa p'a ser políticamente incorrecto

Son perros viejos, llevan años, van de vuelta
Pagan impuestos al gobierno ke critican
Tienen millones, grandes coches, no se cortan
Saben ki lo tienen todo vendiendo solidaridad

Lo he visto por el suelo arrastrado por la inercia del impulso
El dinero lo ha llevado hacia el vacío
Y lo ha soltado en el más alto precipicio
Solis la moda, eso es lo ke me consuela
Pasa el tiempo y se olvida, como todas
Cantando al consumo y sacáis superventas por navidad
El dinero nunca os hará cambiar
Un millón por actuación

Vayas a donde vayas nada te impedirá triunfar
Vayas a donde vayas tras la apariencia la verdad
Vayas a donde vayas la prensa te respetará
Vaya a donde vayas todas tus mierdas comerán

Y ahora vengo yo convertido en un burgués
Gracias a la música, ke me ha visto crecer
Y ahora vengo yo, traficante y mercader
Estoy podrido de la cabeza a los pies

Solo (Segismundo Toxicómano)

Hermano, haznos un sitio en el mundo de las masas
Ke estamos aburridos de vivir ya de esperanzas
Parece por lo visto ke a nadie importa nada
Los ideales muertos son palabras

No es política el odio social
Es dignidad y rabia
No merece la pena escuchar una verdad a medias

Si estoy solo y no tengo a nadie
Si hago noche en los hospitales
Y hace tiempo ke llevo dentro
Trozos rotos de cristales.

Dame más, kiero más siempre más
Recuérdame ke pague

He aprendido como los demás
A hacerme un mundo aparte

Llevo tres noches con sus días sin dormir
Doy rienda suelta a mi cerebro y mi nariz
Se acaba el tiempo y lo tengo ke disfrutar
Por mi ke explote todo akí os vais a kedar

Voy sin remedio hacia mi destino
Ke explote todo!! Ke Explote todo!!

Confessional (Lamb Of God)

Intrinsic rot. Traces of future. Your past will rise haunting you again.
Tounging the glue stamp seal of your fold.
Cased in forests of black steel rod.
Vines of nerve float downstream. Sections of horror.
This is something you must never do again.
Falling spiral down. You know not what you are looking for but it will find you anyway.
I've confessed this disease to you. Handed you a key to control.
Fuel for your malicious intent.
Punish me for my failure. Dissect my faith. Twisting my trust.
Never, no more, I'm alone

UK Visa Versa (MC Lars)

Hey England... let's kick it.

Cops without guns and the NME.
Should I watch the BBC or should I watch the BBC?
Look at these crazy coins, is this Lord of the Rings?
Pounds and pence and Princes and Queens?
Flipside experience, well not really.
More familiar than Russia or Chile.
Up for cricket or squash, or the London zoo?
Look, you hate George Bush and we do too.
Fab music scene, though, UK bands are ace,
And you guys are the most polite of the human race.
Fish and chips, crumpets, bangers and mash,
Shakespeare, Donne, Sid Vicious and the Clash.
You love our movies, we kind of like yours.
We love the way you talk, "please help help us in these wars."
You stopped staying "fab," we stopped saying "groovy,"
Our Scotland is Canada; you saw the South Park movie.

CHORUS
I love England and visa versa,
American perspective in these Visa verses.
Tea time? Jolly good! Caffeine rush.
Look, a red a phone booth and a double-decker bus.

I love you England, so let's both ignore
The Boston Tea Party, and that silly East Coast war.
Oxford, London, and Guildford too,
Rockin' your P.A.'s when I come to visit you.

The Florida incident? Democracy at work,
But we've still got love for your boy Edmund Burke.
If it weren't for us, you'd be speaking German,
But then we gave you Hanson and Pee Wee Herman.
You gave us the Beatles, and you gave us the Who
We gave you Kris Kross and Vanilla Ice too.
You gave us "Chicken Run" and the Teletubies,
We gave you McDonald's and got you chubby.
You think we're all Trailer Trash obnoxious and noisy.
But that's just Springer, Ricki Lake, and Boise.
We're friendly and fake and proud of our nation,
Overweight, wasting gas, hedonic civilization.
We're sue-happy mad overworked compulsive winners,
Strong facade but insecure, just think Seymour Skinner.
We're obsessed with image, old age and fat,
Technology, death, and our dogs and cats,
The superbowl, shopping, S.U.V.'s and money,
Santa Claus, hygiene and the Easter Bunny.
But bigger is better and we love our T.V.
From L.A. to Boston, to Nashville, Tennessee.
And yes 1/4 of Americans own guns
In case you come back to punish your sons.
But Mother Britain listen, there's still a tie that binds us,
The U.S. isn't perfect, you don't have to remind us.

REPEAT CHORUS


Video


Amharic gospel song!




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