1. |
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Què en faré del cap
sense les mans
als pantalons?
Podré somiar
Què en faré dels ulls
sinó puc mirar-te tot el cos
en el llit blanc?
Podré llepar-te tot el cos
Si no tingués el nas
Per poder olorar les intencions
Dels desconeguts,
Firmaré la seva mort
Ara que no tinc res sota del nas
I no tinc paraules
que es puguin escoltar,
Sentiré una posta de sol
Sentiré que és l'últim cop
El desig de tenir sort
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2. |
(Oh Alright) Go On Then
02:37
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Got to love the way you do it
When you don’t know what you’re doin’ tonight
And you’re not afraid of playing and you know it don’t need to be tight
And you wade through muddy fields
With the shield sinking deeper and deeper
And a damned expensive habit
Never having had funds to feed her
Oh all right go on then
Coming from class clown ending up in the new museum
Throwing off another round when you’re young and Eastern European
Sing it softer for me love while I yearn for sound of silence
In a mythical fairyland where there ain’t no place for violence
Oh all right go on then
Remei - Estadi - Els Caputxins - Serra Sant Ferm - Vic 2 - El Sucre - La Guia - Mont Rodon
And you don’t know what it is but the hills get steeper and steeper
Writing stuff down on the paper getting looks like Tom the peeper
Do you like lounging in the dark in a car, parking pen to paper
And then driving across the town to put it down only two hours later
Oh all right go on then
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3. |
Whip Rules
04:30
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Here they come around the bend
They’re too tight ain’t got nowhere to go
They’ve run her just the once
Now they are hoping for a better show
The owner’s here too know exactly how he will moan
We don’t need another stewards’
We might just have to let it go
Rules we need
Strict rules
We need
Whip rules
We need
When you ride a horse at speed
It must give you such a magic feeling
And I can not see the need
To give the beauty such a beating
Rules we need
Strict rules
We need
Whip rules
We need
I was cut up on the final bend sir
I had nowhere to go
And then mine just clipped the heels
Of the one in front with her leading toe
Rules we need
Strict rules
We need
Whip rules
We need
Hear me crawling through the car compound
After a better sound
House Martins up in the rafters
Laugh most of the year around
And a dedicated group is trained
To leave them at their matter
As the only ones who know the road
To where the bones are scattered
Rules we need
Strict rules
We need
Whip rules
We need
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Record Label from Barcelona.
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