Mardi 8 décembre 2009
2
08
/12
/2009
07:00
Elle part. Elle s'éloigne, de dos. Elle s'écarte, se
détache, en douceur. Elle se sépare, se coupe, le long des pointillés. Elle s'en va, s'évade. Elle s'enfuit, elle s'efface, s'absente. Elle part, elle sort, par la porte noire. A part, quelque
part, plus loin, ailleurs, vers nulle part ...
droits d'auteur réservés
Par Orely
-
Publié dans : j'écris
-
3
Lundi 7 décembre 2009
1
07
/12
/2009
07:00
No sir, well I don't wanna be the blame, not
anymore.
It's your turn, so take a seat we're settling the final score.
And why do we like to hurt so much?
I can't decide
You have made it harder just to go on
And why, all the possibilities where I was wrong
That's what you get when you let your heart win, whoa.
That's what you get when you let your heart win, whoa.
I drowned out all my sense with the sound of its beating.
And that's what you get when you let your heart win, whoa.
I wonder, how am I supposed to feel when you're not here.
'Cause I burned every bridge I ever built when you were here.
I still try holding onto silly things, I never learn.
Oh why, all the possibilities I'm sure you've heard.
That's what you get when you let your heart win, whoa.
That's what you get when you let your heart win, whoa.
I drowned out all my sense with the sound of its beating
And that's what you get when you let your heart win, whoa.
Pain make your way to me, to me.
And I'll always be just so inviting.
If I ever start to think straight,
This heart will start a riot in me,
Let's start, start, hey!
Why do we like to hurt so much?
Oh why do we like to hurt so much?
That's what you get when you let your heart win!
Whoa.
That's what you get when you let your heart win, whoa.
That's what you get when you let your heart win, whoa.
Now I can't trust myself with anything but this,
And that's what you get when you let your heart win, whoa
Par Orely
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Publié dans : je chante
-
1
Dimanche 6 décembre 2009
7
06
/12
/2009
07:00
" Il est des heures vides, creuses, qui portent en
elles le destin " Stefan Zweig, extrait de L'amour d'Erika Ewald
Par Orely
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Publié dans : je cite
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2
Vendredi 4 décembre 2009
5
04
/12
/2009
07:00
Désaccorder les graves de sa voix. Tirer sur les
cordes, qui pleuvent, qui tombent. S'attacher les poignets, serrés. S'accorder le souffle, un temps. Se balancer, les mains griffées sur les cordes raides. Accrocher les yeux, suspendre le corps.
Grimper, noeud après noeud. S'enrouler aux cordes, le cou, les pieds dans le vide.
droits d'auteur
réservés
Par Orely
-
Publié dans : j'écris
-
3
Jeudi 3 décembre 2009
4
03
/12
/2009
07:00
The paranoia is in bloom, the PR
The transmissions will resume
They'll try to push drugs
Keep us all dumbed down and hope that
We will never see the truth around
So come on !
Another promise, another scene, another
A package not to keep us trapped in greed
With all the green belts wrapped around our minds
And endless red tape to keep the truth confined
So come on !
They will not force us
They will stop degrading us
They will not control us
We will be victorious
Interchanging mind control
Come let the revolution take its toll if you could
Flick the switch and open your third eye, you'd see that
We should never be afraid to die
So come on !
Rise up and take the power back, it's time that
The fat cats had a heart attack, you know that
Their time is coming to an end
We have to unify and watch our flag ascend
They will not force us
They will stop degrading us
They will not control us
We will be victorious
Hey .. hey ... hey .. hey!
They will not force us
They will stop degrading us
They will not control us
We will be victorious
Hey .. hey ... hey .. hey !
Par Orely
-
Publié dans : je chante
-
4
