Android Pinguinoid
Аццкий Пингвин-флудераст
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Цитата:Where are the prophets, where are the visionaries,
where are the poets, to breach the dawn of the sentimental mercenary.
Вообщем,признаю твою правоту.Я и вправду недопонял текст Фиша.Да и сейчас понимаю не до конца. |
сопсно что ? 84 год, СОИ, гонка вооружений, мир как порховая бочка, тд тп ...
вот для контраста, сатирическое про "понты представителя шоу-бизнеса" :
"Marillion - Incommunicado - lyrics"
I'd be really pleased to meet you if I could remember your name
But I got problems of the memory ever since I got a winner in the fame game
I'm a citizen of Legoland travellin' incommunicado
And I don't give a damn for the Fleet Street aficionados
But I don't want to be the back-page interview
I don't want launderette anonymity
I want my hand prints in the concrete on Sunset Boulevard
A dummy in Tussauds you'll see
Incommunicado, incommunicado
I'm a Marquee veteran, a multimedia bonafide celebrity
I've got an allergy to Perrier, daylight and responsibility
I'm a rootin'-tootin' cowboy, the Peter Pan, the street credibility
Always taking the point with the dawn patrol fraternity
Sometimes it seems like I've been here before
When I hear opportunity kicking in my door
Call it synchronicity call it deja vu
I just put my faith in destiny - it's the way that I choose
But I don't want to be a tin can tied
To the bumper of a wedding limousine
Or currently residing in the where are they now file
A toupee on the cabaret scene
I want to do adverts for American Express cards
Talk shows on prime time TV
A villa in France, my own cocktail bar
And that's where you're gonna find me
Incommunicado, incommunicado
Sometimes it seems like I've been here before
When I hear opportunity kicking in my door
Call it synchronicity call it deja vu
I just put my faith in destiny - it's the way that I choose
Incommunicado, incommunicado
It's the only way
другой ракурс, наркомания :
"Marillion - He Knows You Know lyrics"
Light switch, yellow fever, crawling up your bathroom wall
Singing psychedelic praises to the depths of a china bowl
You've got venom in your stomach, you've got poison in your head
You should have listened to the priest at the confession
When he offered you the sacred bread
He knows, you know, he knows, you know
H e knows, you know, but he's got problems
Fast feed, crystal fever, swarming through a fractured mind
Chilling needles freeze emotion, the blind shall lead the blind
You've got venom in you stomach, you've got poison in your head
When your conscience whispered, the vein lines stiffened
You were walking with the dead
He knows, you know, he knows, you know, he knows, you know
He's got experience, he's got experience, he knows, you know
But he's got problems, problems, problems
He knows... slash wrist, scarlet fever, crawled under your bathroom door
Pumping arteries ooze their problems through the gap that the razor tore
You've got venom in your stomach, you've got poison in your head
You should have listened to your analyst's questions
When you lay on his leather bed
He knows, you know, he knows, you know
H he knows, you know, but he's got problems
Blank eyes, purple fever, streaming through the frosted pane
You learned your lesson far to late from the links in a chemist chain
You've got venom in your stomach, you've got poison in your head
You should have stayed at home and talked with father
Listen to the lies he fed
He knows, you know, he knows, you know,
He knows, you know, but he's got problems
He knows, you know, he knows, you know, he knows, you know
He's got experience, he's got experience, he knows, you know
You know, you know, you know
развал семейных отношений :
"Marillion - Punch And Judy lyrics"
Washing machine, pinstripe dream
Stripped the gloss from a beauty queen
Found our nest, in the Daily Express
Met the vicar in a holy vest
Brought up the children Church of E
Now I vegetate with a colour TV
Worst ever thing that ever happened to me
Oh, for D.I.V.O.R.C.E., oh Judy
Whatever happened to pillow fights
Whatever happened to jeans so tight, Friday nights
Whatever happened to lover's lane
Whatever happened to passion games
Sunday walks in the pouring rain
Curling tongs, mogadons
"I got a headache baby, don't take so long"
Single beds, middle age dread
Losing the war in the Waistlands spread
Who left the cap of the toothpaste tube
Who forgot to flush the loo
Leave your sweaty socks outside the door
Don't walk across my polished floor, oh Judy
Whatever happened to morning smiles
Whatever happened to wicked wiles, permissive styles
Whatever happened to twinkling eyes, hard fast drives
Complements on unnatural size
Propping up a bar, family car
Sweating out a mortgage as a balding clerk
World war three, suburbanshee
Just slip her these pills and I'll be free
No more Judy, Judy, Judy no more
Goodbye Judy
и так далее ...
Цитата:| Не знаю, я сразу вспоминал англию за фунт стерлингов, когда слушал мариллион. |
ну это музыкально что то где то перекликаецца. я имею в виду Фиша,
как певца - динамика вокала у Фиша, от расслабленного к резкому
и взрывному, это и есть Хэммиловская характерная манера. -----
"Гланвое крепког оздоровья и отличног онатсроения!) "(с) blackBDOBA
"Зенит никогда не будет чемпионом" (с) В. Петржела |
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Наверное Ульвер, Арктурус, Пеккатум и прочие мне нравятся от любви не к прогу и авантгарду, а от любви к блэку чтоли? Ничего тут странного. Хотя может на форуме я это не показал особо, хотя в темах соответсвующих групп отписыался.
