5 martie 2009


Come as you are, as you were, as i want you to be.
[and i swear that i don't have a gun..no i don't have a gun]

i'm so warm and calm inside
i no longer have to hide

And I say
He's the one
Who likes all the pretty songs
And he likes to sing along
And he likes to shoot his gun
But he knows not what it mean
Knows not what it mean
And I say yeah

Is there another reason for your staying?
Could you believe him when you distrust his stain?
Here is another word that rhymes wïth shame.

I'm so happy 'cause today
I found my friends
They're in my head
I'm so ugly, that's okay
'Cause so are you
Broke our mirrors
Sunday morning is everyday
For all I care
And I'm not scared

And he never sleeps cuz he's got bad blood yeah
I'm a stain

Hate me
Do it and do it again

"-OK. De cand exista arta, de cand oamenii creeaza tot felul de lucruri, a existat si ideea ca a face arta, mai ales arta cu A mare, trebuie sa vina dintr-un fel de suferinta pe care o indura artistul. Poate a suferit o pierdere, ori i-a frant cineva inima, ori are probleme de sanatate. Ideea e ca suferinta asta il inspira. Artistul se hraneste din ea.
-Cum facea Kurt Cobain?
[torturati-l pe artist]

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