Merry Christmas...κι ένα τραγούδι του Tom Waits

Γι' αυτά τα περίεργα, μουδιασμένα χριστούγεννα, που τα μελομακάρονα πήραν μυρωδιά χημικών και, αντί για αγγελάκια, μπάτσοι φυλάνε το δέντρο στο Σύνταγμα...μαζί με τους τόσο πρόσφατους ήχους των χειροβομβίδων κρότου και λάμψης ακούμε και το "Silent Night, Holy Night" σαν εισαγωγή σε ένα διαμαντάκι του Tom Waits: "Christmas card from a hooker in Minneapolis"



Christmas card from a hooker in Minneapolis
hey Charley I'm pregnant
and living on 9-th street
right above a dirty bookstore
off cuclid avenue
and I stopped taking dope
and I quit drinking whiskey
and my old man plays the trombone
and works out at the track.

and he says that he loves me
even though its not his baby
and he says that he'll raise him up
like he would his own son
and he gave me a ring
that was worn by his mother
and he takes me out dancin
every saturday nite.

and hey Charley I think about you
everytime I pass a fillin' station
on account of all the grease
you used to wear in your hair
and I still have that record
of little anthony & the imperials
but someone stole my record player
how do you like that?

hey Charley I almost went crazy
after mario got busted
so I went back to omaha to
live with my folks
but everyone I used to know
was either dead or in prison
so I came back in minneapolis
this time I think I'm gonna stay.

hey Charley I think I'm happy
for the first time since my accident
and I wish I had all the money
that we used to spend on dope
I'd buy me a used car lot
and I wouldn't sell any of em
I'd just drive a different car
every day dependin on how
I feel.

hey Charley
for chrissakes
do you want to know
the truth of it?
I don't have a husband
he don't play the trombone
and I need to borrow money
to pay this lawyer
and Charley, hey
I'll be eligible for parole
come valentines day.

The Clash "The Guns of Brixton....

...στη μνήμη του Αλέξανδρου Γρηγορόπουλου

8 μήνες μετά την τελευταία εγγραφή, η επιστροφή συμπίπτει με ένα φόνο.
Μόνο ένα τραγούδι αυτή τη φορά (αν τυχόν υπάρχει κάποιος που δεν ξέρει τους στίχους, ακολουθούν κάτω από το κλιπάκι)




THE GUNS OF BRIXTON
When they kick at your front door
How you gonna come?
With your hands on your head
Or on the trigger of your gun

When the law break in
How you gonna go?
Shot down on the pavement
Or waiting on death row

You can crush us
You can bruise us
But you'll have to answer to
Oh, the guns of Brixton

The money feels good
And your life you like it well
But surely your time will come
As in heaven, as in hell

You see, he feels like Ivan
Born under the Brixton sun
His game is called survivin'
At the end of the harder they come

You know it means no mercy
They caught him with a gun
No need for the Black Maria
Goodbye to the Brixton sun

You can crush us
You can bruise us
But you'll have to answer to
Oh, the guns of Brixton

When they kick at your front door
How you gonna come?
With your hands on your head
Or on the trigger of your gun

You can crush us
You can bruise us
Yes, even shoot us
But oh-the guns of Brixton

Shot down on the pavement
Waiting in death row
His game is called survivin'
As in heaven as in hell

You can crush us
You can bruise us
But you'll have to answer to
Oh, the guns of Brixton