Friday, July 7, 2006

E così sia.

5 comments:

gs said...

ma ti prego.... prova prima qualcos'altro, che so, l'omicidio di massa!
oppure... ancor più assurdo, prova a rilassarti!

gian said...

nel collo!

Rice said...

Heroin

I don't know just where I'm going
But I'm gonna try for the kingdom if I can
'Cause it makes me feel like I'm a man
When I put a spike into my vein
Then I tell you things aren't quite the same
When I'm rushing on my run
And I feel just like Jesus' son
And I guess that I just don't know
And I guess that I just don't know



I have made big decision
I'm gonna try to nullify my life
'Cause when the blood begins to flow
When it shoots up the dropper's neck
When I'm closing in on death

And you can't help me, not you guys
Or all you sweet girls with all your sweet talk
You can all go take a walk
And I guess I just don't know
And I guess that I just don't know



I wish that I was born a thousand years ago
I wish that I'd sailed the darkened seas
On a great big clipper ship
Going from this land here to that
Ah, in a sailor's suit and cap

Away from the big city
Where a man cannot be free
Of all the evils of this town
And of himself and those around
Oh, and I guess that I just don't know
Oh, and I guess that I just don't know



Heroin, be the death of me
Heroin, it's my wife and it's my life, ha-ha
Because a mainer to my vein
Leads to a center in my head
And then I'm better off than dead

Because when the smack begins to flow
I really don't care anymore
About all the Jim-Jims in this town
And all the politicians making crazy sounds
And everybody putting everybody else down
And all the dead bodies piled up in mounds


'Cause when the smack begins to flow
Then I really don't care anymore

Ah, when that heroin is in my blood, hah
And that blood is in my head
Man thank God that I'm good as dead
And thank your God that I'm not aware
And thank God that I just don't care
And I guess that I just don't know
Oh, and I guess that I just don't know

( The Velvet Underground, 1967 )

Anonymous said...

e di consolazione odora già l'abitudine

mademoisellehuitre said...

Io non faccio facili associazioni di idee.
Per cui vi prego, non fatele neanche voi.
Una siringa non significa droga. Non significa suicidio. Non significa eroina.
Non per forza perlomeno.
Io non mi drogo. E non mi suicido.
E se proprio dovessi farlo lo farei in un modo alla Anna Karenina. Platealmente come una lussuosa uscita di scena.
Magari quella siringa è per voi. O per l'iraddiddio.
O per i puffi.
Ma che cazzo.