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Premier Consul
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Consul Honoraire
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Poétique et mélancolique aussi, celle-ci, je trouve...
Sentenced, -We are but falling leaves- Think of your lifetime as one day It's fading away The shadows are growing long Think of existence as a flame and death as rain Storm clouds there right along At life's eve our flames will cease Eternally, unavoidably Eventually all paths will lead To the cemetery We are but falling leaves in the air hovering down Unaware we are spinning around Scattered fragments of time Like blinks of an eye we are That's all we are Think of your lifetime as one year Look autumn is here Getting colder, the winter's impending Your conclusion's drawing near - certain, austere Yes only the circle's unending At life's eve our flames will cease Eternally, unavoidably Eventually, all paths will lead to the cemetery To the prior deceased We are but falling leaves in the air hovering down Unaware we will hit the ground Scattered fragments of time Like blinks of an eye we are Just when we realize we are alive... we die |
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Modératrice
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Re-Brel |
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Consul Honoraire
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J'ai ça en stock aussi, mais bon, c'est tout de suite moins poétique
 ...Bloody murder, a violent scene of death A bullet in the back of the head Lethal shot, point-blank combat Another life comes to an end Executed, a hole between the eyes Stare into the barrel of a gun Bone implodes, blood pours out One squeeze and the deed is done Bust a cap, another drops dead Seven minutes and I'll kill again Pieces of lead, ripping through your head This is a violent scene of death Rampage of murders go on And it won't stop until I get caught Got to run, killing time And bitch you are the next in line Forcing you to kneel...before I lay my vengeance Sqeezing the trigger...and blow your brains on the walls of violent... A red gush smears my face Did you think that you were safe? One shot inflicts a wound A hard impact, the bullet rides through No one knows why they were butchered Terminated and left for dead Only dead bodies left In a violent scene of death Instant death, your body falls The bullet rushes through the cranial bone Collapsing down, (you) drop to the ground Left unburied for them to be found All it took was a single squeeze It's like the trigger is a part of me Only dead bodies left In a violent scence of death |
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Bavard impénitent
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Bavard impénitent
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Premier Consul
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Ne vous moquez pas cette chanson est une très belle métaphore sur la mort... 
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Bavard impénitent
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john gouze a écrit :
 sur la mort de la chanson
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Premier Consul
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Bavard impénitent
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steffani a écrit :
Je pense aussi
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