ceva mai mult decat Beyonce si JayZ
THE STORY OF BONNIE AND CLYDE
by Bonnie Parker
You’ve read the story of Jesse James / Of how he lived and died; / If you’re still in need /Of something to read, / Here’s the story of Bonnie and Clyde.
Now Bonnie and Clyde are the Barrow gang / I’m sure you all have read / How they rob and steal / And those who squeal / Are usually found dying or dead.
There’s lots of untruths to these write-ups; / They’re not so ruthless as that; / Their nature is raw; / They hate all the law / The stool pigeons, spotters, and rats.
They call them cold-blooded killers; / They say they are heartless and mean; / But I say this with pride, / That I once knew Clyde / When he was honest and upright and clean.
But the laws fooled around, / Kept taking him down / And locking him up in a cell, / Till he said to me,”I’ll never be free, / So I’ll meet a few of them in hell.”
The road was so dimly lighted; / There were no highway signs to guide; / But they made up their minds / If all roads were blind, / They wouldn’t give up till they died.
The road gets dimmer and dimmer; / Sometimes you can hardly see; / But it’s fight, man to man, / And do all you can, / For they know they can never be free.
From heart-break some people have suffered; / From weariness some people have died; / But take it all in all, / Our troubles are small / Till we get like Bonnie and Clyde.
“Deziluziile iubirii au ranit multe inimi / Oboseala a omorat cativa oameni, / Problemele acestea par insa neinsemnate / Dupa ce descoperi viata lui Bonnie si Clyde”
If a policeman is killed in Dallas, / And they have no clue or guide; / If they can’t find a fiend, / They just wipe their slate clean /And hand it on Bonnie and Clyde.
There’s two crimes committed in America / Not accredited to the Barrow mob; / They had no hand / In the kidnap demand, /Nor the Kansas City depot job.
A newsboy once said to his buddy; / „I wish old Clyde would get jumped; / In these awful hard times / We’d make a few dimes / If five or six cops would get bumped.”
The police haven’t got the report yet, / But Clyde called me up today; / He said, „Don’t start any fights / We aren’t working nights / We’re joining the NRA.”
From Irving to West Dallas viaduct / Is known as the Great Divide, / Where the women are kin, / And the men are men, / And they won’t „stool” on Bonnie and Clyde.
If they try to act like citizens / And rent them a nice little flat, / About the third night / They’re invited to fight / By a sub-gun’s rat-tat-tat.
They don’t think they’re too tough or desperate, / They know that the law always wins; / They’ve been shot at before, / But they do not ignore / That death is the wages of sin.
Some day they’ll go down together; / And they’ll bury them side by side; / To few it’ll be grief / To the law a relief / But it’s death for Bonnie and Clyde.
“Intr-o buna zi vor muri impreuna / Vor fi ingropati unul langa celalalt / Pentru putini va fi o durere / Iar pentru lege va fi o sarbatoare / Dar pentru Bonnie si Clyde va fi numai moarte.”
Pacientul asta al lui era retardat.. Piesa era pe „hold” inca de prin liceu pentru ca nu-i gasea un final la fel de bun ca restul melodiei.. si finalul perfect a venit..
..E o poveste aparte, rad de fiecare data cand o povestesc cuiva.. era 2006 cred, aveam 16 ani, si ii zic mamei ca plec la meci, tata nu era acasa, mama a crezut ca jucam acasa. Eu plec, nimic ciudat, vine tata acasa.. „Unde e Dani?” „S-a dus la meci” „I-ai dat tu bani sa se duca la Cluj?” ..suna telefonul, mama : „Nesimtitule!” si inchide.. eh, ii trece zic, in 5min suna iar „Nesimtitule, nu mi-ai zis ca pleci la Cluj” si inchide fara sa zic un cuvant.. si? suna iar „Nesimtitule!! Cum ai plecat fara sa-mi spui unde te duci?” si inchide iar… dupa 2min suna iar „cand vii acasa?”
poza e de la alt meci, o deplasare pe la constanta, cred..
Azi, in seara asta.. mi-am facut blog. Titlu? Vara si soare! Asta aveam in minte cand m-am hotarat. N-am idee despre ce o sa scriu, probabil in mare parte despre fotbal si cei ce-i dau culoare si tot ce are mai de pret el..