miércoles, agosto 16, 2006

It's like a jungle sometimes


  • The Message

    It's like a jungle sometimes it makes me wonder
    How I keep from going under
    It's like a jungle sometimes it makes me wonder
    How I keep from going under

    Broken glass everywhere
    People pissing on the stairs, you know they just don’t care
    I can't take the smell, I can't take the noise
    Got no money to move out, I guess I got no choice
    Rats in the front room, roaches in the back
    Junkies in the alley with the baseball bat
    I tried to get away, but I couldn't get far
    Cause a man with a tow-truck repossessed my car

    Don't push me cause I'm close to the edge
    I'm trying not to lose my head, ah huh-huh-huh
    [2nd and 5th: ah huh-huh-huh]
    [4th: say what?]
    It's like a jungle sometimes it makes me wonder
    How I keep from going under
    It's like a jungle sometimes it makes me wonder
    How I keep from going under

    Standing on the front stoop, hangin' out the window
    Watching all the cars go by, roaring as the breezes blow
    Crazy lady livin' in her bag
    Eating out of garbage piles, used to be a fag-hag
    Such a nice to tango, skipped her life and then go
    In search of her prince it seemed she lost her senses
    Down at the peepshow, watching all the creeps
    So she can tell the stories to the girls back home
    She went to the city and got social security
    She had to get a pimp, she couldn't make it on her own

    [2nd Chorus]

    My brother's doing best on my mother's TV
    She says: “You watch it too much, it’s just not healthy!”
    “All My Children” in the daytime, “Dallas” at night
    Can even see the game or the Sugar Ray fight
    The bill collectors they ring my phone
    And scare my wife when I'm not home
    Got a bum education, double-digit inflation
    I can’t take the train to the job, there's a strike at the station
    Neon King Kong standin' on my back
    Can't stop to turn around, broke my sacroiliac
    A mid-ranged migraine, cancered membrane
    Sometimes I think I'm going insane, I swear I might hijack a plane

    [3rd Chorus]

    My son said: ”Daddy I don't wonna go to school
    Cause the teacher's a jerk!”, he must think I'm a fool
    And all the kids smoke reefer, I think it'd be cheaper
    If I just got a job, learned to be a street sweeper
    I’ll dance to the beat, shuffle my feet
    Wear a shirt and tie and run with the creeps
    Cause it's all about money, ain't a damn thing funny
    You got to have a con in this land of milk and honey
    They pushed that girl in front of the train
    Took her to the doctor, sewed her arm on again
    Stabbed that man right in his heart
    Gave him a transplant for a brand new start
    I can't walk through the park, cause it's crazy after dark
    Keep my hand on my gun, cause they got me on the run
    I feel like a outlaw, broke my last glass jar
    Hear them say: “You want some more livin' on a seesaw?”

    [4th Chorus]

    A child is born with no state of mind
    Blind to the ways of mankind
    God is smiling on you but he's frowning too
    Because only God knows what you’ll go through
    You’ll grow in the ghetto, living second rate
    And your eyes will sing a song of deep hate
    The places you’re playin’, where you stay
    Looks like one great big alley way
    You'll admire all the number book takers
    Thugs, pimps, pushers and the big money makers
    Driving big cars, spending twenties and tens
    And you wonna grow up to be just like them, huh,
    Smugglers, scrambles, burglars, gamblers
    Pickpockets, peddlers even panhandlers
    You say: “I'm cool, I'm no fool!”
    But then you wind up dropping out of high school
    Now you're unemployed, all non-void
    Walking ‘round like you're Pretty Boy Floyd
    Turned stickup kid, look what you’ve done did
    Got sent up for a eight year bid
    Now your manhood is took and you're a may tag
    Spend the next two years as a undercover fag
    Being used and abused to serve like hell
    Till one day you was found hung dead in a cell
    It was plain to see that your life was lost
    You was cold and your body swung back and forth
    But now your eyes sing the sad, sad song
    Of how you lived so fast and died so young

    [5th Chorus]

    Otra de esas canciones cuyo estribillo tarareo mentalmente en cuanto me descuido...

    By Anonymous Grandmaster Flash & The Furious Five, at 16/8/06 01:27  

  • Tienes la cabeza llena de música, es un gusto oírla.

    (la música)

    Hace poco mi hermana, traductora de oficio, me regaló una de sus perlas. Yo con actitud muy "cool" le dije "it's groooovy", y ella me respondió, copiándome el gesto "tiene suuuuuurcos".

    ¿Os acordáis de los primeros free style de DJs? (allí GM Flash y muchos otros), los primeros scratchs, samples y mezclas, aquellos sí tenían surcos!!

    By Blogger Balcius, at 16/8/06 03:54  

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