ingles

Ironic An old man turned ninety-eight he won the lottery and died the next day It’s a black fly in your chardonnay it’s a death row pardon two minutes too late Isn’t it ironic, don’t you think. It’s like rain on your wedding day It’s a free ride when you’ve already paid It’s the good advice that you just didn’t take Who would’ve thought, it figures. Mr. Play it safe was afraid to fly he packed his suitcase and kissed his kids goodbye He waited his hole damn life to take that flight and as the plane crashed down he thought "Well isn’t this nice?" And isn’t this ironic, don’t you think. Well, life has a funny way of sneaking up on you when you think everything’s OK and everything is going right and life has a funny way of helping you out when you think everything’s gone wrong and everything blows up in your face. A trafic jam when you’re already late a no smoking sign on your cigarette break It’s like ten thousand spoons when all you need is a knife it’s meeting the man of my dreams and then meeting his beautiful wife And isn’t it ironic don’t you think A little too ironic, and yeah I really do think. Well live has a funny way of sneaking up on you and life has a funny way of helping you Alanis Morissette Yesterday Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away Now it looks they’re here to stay Oh, I believe in yesterday. Suddenly, I’m not half the man I used to be. There’s a shadow hanging over me, Oh, yesterday, come suddenly. Why she had to go I don’t know she wouldn’t stay I said something wrong now I long for yesterday. Yesterday, love was such an easy game to play Now, I need a place to hide away. Oh, I believe in yesterday. Beatles JESUS IS A BARTENDER As my poor posture walked in front of the house of the lord it came to me You can’t drink on Sundays until sometime in the afternoon The separation of church and state is and always has been false advertising They know that opening the bars on Sunday to the blurry-eyed herds would cost them Cost them attendance Cost them a sterling silver dish full of bribery and beer money It’s about the best they can do to force people to listen to them I wonder if anybody would listen to me if I had the power to keep them from something they like something they want something they need something real Doubt it Oh well one less career option Sunday morning Got to pay off your spiritual tab so the holy bartender will give you credit again Just in time for next weekend Just in time for brunch. Big Night on the town drunk on the dark streets of some city, it's night, you're lost, where's your room? you enter a bar to find yourself, order scotch and water. damned bar's sloppy wet, it soaks part of one of your shirt sleeves. It's a clip joint'the scotch is weak. you order a bottle of beer. Madame Death walks up to you wearing a dress. she sits down, you buy her a beer, she stinks of swamps, presses a leg against you. the bar tender sneers. you've got him worried, he doesn't know if you're a cop, a killer, a madman or an Idiot. you ask for a vodka. you pour the vodka into the top of the beer bottle. It's one a.m. in a dead cow world. you ask her hoy much for head, drink every down, it tastes like machine oil. you leave Madame Death there, you leave the sneering bartender there. you have rememberd where your room is. the room with the full bottle of wine on the dresser. the room with the dance of the roaches. perfection in the Star Turd where love died laughing. Charles Bukowski The Grouch I was a young boy that had big plans. Now I’m just another shitty old man. I don’t have fun and I hate every thing. The world owes me so fuck you. Glory days don’t mean shit to me. I drank a six pack of apathy. Life’s a birth and so am I. The world ones me so fuck you. Waited youth and a fistful of ideals. I had a young and optimistic point of view. Wasted youth and a fist full of ideals. I had a young and optimistic point of view. I’ve decomposed, yet my gut’s getting fat. Oh, my god I’m turning out like my dad. I’m just a grouch sitting on the couch. The world owes me so fuck you. The wife’s a nag and the kid’s fucking up. I don’t have sex ‘cause I can’t get it up. I’m always rude. I’ve got a bad attitude. The world owes me, so fuck you. Haushinka Haushinka is a girl with a peculiar name. I met her on the eve of my birthday. Did she know, before she went away. Does she know? But it’s too damn late. This girl has gone far away. Now she’s gone. All I have now is a memory to date. A cheap hat and cigarettes, And a peculiar name. I didn’t know, I didn’t know, Before she went away. I know now, and it’s too damn late. Will she ever find her way? I’m too damn young to be too late, But am I? Yet again I’m kicking myself, And I’ll be here in battle scars, Waiting for you. Waiting for you now. Green Day. Don’t Speak You an me, we used to be together Every day together, always. I really feel that I’m losing my best friend. I can’t believe that this could be the end. It looks as though you’re letting go, And if it’s real, well I don’t want to know. Don’t speak; I know just what you’re thinking, So please stop explaining; don’t tell me ‘cos it hurts. Don’t speak; I know what you’re thinking, I don’t need your reasons; don’t tell me ‘cos it hurts. Oh, memories, well they can be inviting. But some are altogether mighty frightening. As we die, both you and I. With my head in my hands I sit and cry. Don’t speak, I know just what you’re saying, So please stop explaining; don’t tell me ‘cos it hurts. Don’t speak; I know what you’re thinking, And I don’t need you reasons; don’t tell me ‘cos it hurts. It’s all ending. You’ve got to stop pretending who we are. You and me, I can see us dying, are we? Don’t speak; I know what you’re saying, So please stop explaining; don’t tell me ‘cos it hurts, no, no. Don’t speak; I know what you’re thinking And I don’t need your reasons; don’t tell me ‘cos it hurts. Don’t tell me ‘cos it hurts. I know what you’re saying, so please stop explaining. Don’t speak, don’t speak, don’t speak, oh. I know what you’re thinking, and I don’t need your reasons, I know you’re good, I know you’re good, I know you’re real good, oh... No Doubt. Song of myself I celebrate myself, And what I assume you shall assume For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you. I loafe and invite my soul, I lean and loafe at my ease... observing a spread of summer grass Walt Whitman