diumenge, d’octubre 08, 2006

Pinyau, pinyau, ets mort



I knew all along
That I was right at the start
‘bout the seeds of the weeds
That grew in your heart
Self satisfaction for the factions
Who formed to tear us apart
Well I gave you the Midas touch
Oh you turned round and scratched out my heart

Oh what did you expect?
Oh tell me what did you expect?
To lay it on my head
So is it all upon my head?

Bang bang you’re dead
Oh I’m so easily lead
Bang bang you’re dead
Put all the rumours to bed
Bang bang you’re dead

I knew all along
But I was loathe to believe
There was nothing but spite
Fury and lies
Of the words that you weave
An illusion to a conclusion
And oh its oh so tawdry
When you put it to bed
Kick it in the head
Oh won’t they just let it be

Bang bang you’re dead
Always so easily lead
Bang bang you’re dead
Put all the rumours to bed
Bang bang you’re dead

Oh what did you expect?
Oh tell me what did you expect?
To lay it on my head
So is it all upon my head?

Bang bang you’re dead
Always so easily lead
Bang bang you’re dead
Put all the rumours to bed
Bang bang you’re dead
Bang bang bang bang you’re dead


Com és habitual, és demostra que una bona melodia i una lletra que sembla interessant, en anglès, acaba resultant d'allò més corrent i facilota. Nens i nenes, no us deixeu enganyar; no aprengueu mai anglès perquè:

1- Xiular melodies que no s'entenen fa que no ens en poguem avergonyir.
2- Reinventar l'idioma de Churchill és txatxi, com ja va demostrar en Tolkien amb els elfs.
3- Cantar en un pulcre anglès fa ràbia, i hauria d'estar penat.