I never loved nobody fully
Always one foot on the ground
And by protecting my heart truly
I got lost
In the sounds
I hear in my mind
All of these voices
I hear in my mind
All of these words
I hear in my mind
All of this music
And it breaks my heart

Suppose I never, ever met you
Suppose we never fell in love
Suppose I never ever let you
Kiss me so sweet
And so soft
Suppose I never, ever saw you
Suppose you never, ever called
Suppose I kept on singin' love songs
Just to break
My own fall

All my friends say
That of course
It's gonna get be'er
Better, better, better, ohhh...

I never loved nobody fully... etc.

With time goes...
Everything goes
We forget the face and we forget the voice
The heart, when it doesn't work,
There is no need to go further
Just let it go and it's all right

With time... everything goes
The other whom we adored, whow we looked for under the rain
The other whom we guessed in the bend of a glance
In between words, in between lines, and under the blusher
Of a makeup vow going to sleep
With time, everything vanishes

With time... everything goes
Even the best memories make a terrible face
At the used-cloths store, fumbling in the shelves of death,
On Saturday evening, when tenderness leaves us alone

With time... everything goes
The other we trusted, for a cold, for nothing
The other to whom we gave hot air and jewelry
For whom we would have sold our soul for two pence
In front of whom we dragged ourselves like dogs
With time, hey, everything's fine

With time goes everything
We forget the passions, we forget the voices
That whispered the words of simple folks
"Don't come back too late, please, don't catch a cold."

With time goes everything
And we feel old and grey like a broken horse
And we feel frozen in a bed of hazards
And we feel all alone, perhaps, but cushy
And we feel fooled by our lost years
So really… with time… we don't love anymore.

I want a Sunday kind of love
A love to last past Saturday night
And I'd like to know it's more than love at first sight
And I want a Sunday kind of love
I want a a love that's on the square
Can't seem to find somebody
Someone to care
And I'm on a lonely road that leads to no where
I need a Sunday kind of love

I do my Sunday dreaming, oh yea
And all my Sunday scheming
Every minute, every hour, every day
Oh I'm hoping to discover
A certain kind of lover
Who will show me the way

And my arms need someone
Someone to enfold
To keep me warm when Mondays and Tuesdays grow cold
Love for all my life to have and to hold
Oh and I want a Sunday kind of love

I don't want a Monday, Tuesday, or Wednesday, or Thursday, Friday or Saturday
Oh nothing but Sunday oh yea
I want a Sunday Sunday
I want a Sunday kind of love

Did you ever wake up to find
A day that broke up your mind
Destroyed your notion of circular time
It's just that demon life has got you in its sway

Ain't flinging tears out on the dusty ground
For all my friends out on the burial ground
Can't stand the feeling getting so brought down
It's just that demon life has got me in its sway

There must be ways to find out
Love is the way they say is really strutting out
Hey, hey, hey now
One day I woke up to find
Right in the bed next to mine
Someone that broke me up with a corner of her smile, yeah
It's just that demon life has got me in its sway

Terra
Caetano Veloso

Thanks. A bit of background:

In 1969 the young singer-song writers Caetano Veloso and Gilberto Gil arrived in London, expelled from military-ruled Brazil. ...

Gil and Caetano met in 1963 at university in Salvador, the capital Bahia, in Brazil’s culturally vibrant Northeast. There they collaborated, initially performing traditional Northeastern songs and bossa nova melodies, sometimes together with Maria Bethânia (Caetano’s sister), Gal Costa and Tom Zé, other future stars.

In 1965 they left Salvador to pursue opportunities in the cultural hubs to the south, with Gil moving to São Paulo and Caetano (with Bethânia) opting for Rio de Janeiro. They soon came to the attention of a wider Brazilian public, in no small part thanks to the growing reach of television. ... [Military coup happens]

Soon after their arrests, Caetano and Gil were transferred to Rio where they were moved between military detention centres. They were often held in solitary confinement, were constantly intimidated and, in a symbolic act of humiliation, both had their famously long hair shorn off.

One of Caetano’s favourite songs, “Terra“ [“Earth”] was born in his prison cell and produced while in exile: he was given a copy of the magazine Manchete which included, for the first time, photos of Earth from outer space.

Finally, on February 19th, they were put on an air force plane and flown north to Salvador. There they remained under semi-house arrest, until they were “invited” to leave the country.

“I guess they just don’t like what we do”, suggested Caetano shortly before his departure, “they just don’t seem to understand anything open-ended, anything they can’t foresee and control.”

As neither Caetano nor Gil had the money for the airfares, let alone resources to meet expenses abroad, a solution had to be found. Despite being banned from making public appearances, the two persuaded the authorities to grant them permission to perform in Salvador, on condition that they pledged not to “incite” the crowd.

The shows (they were allowed two) went ahead on the 20th and 21st July 1969 at the Teatro Castro Alves, the largest artistic venue in the city. Caetano, aged 26, and Gil, who had just turned 27, were then escorted to Rio to await their travel documents. A few days later, together with their wives – sisters Dedé and Sandra Gadelha – they boarded a plane for Europe. ...

source: https://theworldelsewhere.com/2015/10/15/london-london-brazils-caetano-veloso-and-gilberto-gil-in-exile-part-1/

About truth, I think...


Come waste your millions here
Secretly she sneers
Another corporate show
A guilty conscience grows

And I'll feel a guilty conscience grow
And I'll feel a guilty conscience grow

She burns like the sun
And I can't look away
And she'll burn our horizons
Make no mistakes

Come let the truth be shared
No one ever dared
To break these endless lies
Secretly she cries

She burns like the sun
And I can't look away
And she'll burn our horizons
Make no mistakes

And I'll hide from the world
Behind a broken frame
And I'll run forever
I can't face the shame

Gold Medal.

I am an island underneath the setting sun
In an ocean that is churning
For all I know there might be nobody nearby
Still, the world, it keeps on turning

And when that sun goes down
It gets brighter in my heart somehow
I don't know why this is
But it's what I’d like to know

Sometimes we start over
And go solo
We're looking for
That summer home
Beside the sea
And for the future

Since I left you I'm a gold balloon that wanders high
I won't sing through rainbows and showers
Taking lovers just might keep my tears at bay
But the dam will break at any hour

By candle-light you seem
To deepen in your mysteries
Confusing forces move
At the tides of these seas

Sometimes we start over
And go solo
Are we're looking for
The ones we've hurt
Just to forgive us
In the future

Sometimes we start over
And go solo
No metaphors
Are needed from
This time onwards
In this song

I hope no octopus was hurt while shooting this video...

GOOD LUCK, SEEKER
'Throughout all ages humans have sought
and some have found
a door through which we may pass
but that door is within the soul
It is an enlargement of consciousness
whereby we perceive things to which
we have hitherto been blind'

The Waterboys (2020)

This is the first day of my life
I swear I was born right in the doorway
I went out in the rain
Suddenly everything changed
They're spreadin' blankets on the beach

Yours is the first face that I saw
I think I was blind before I met you
I don't know where I am
I don't know where I've been
But I know where I want to go
So I thought I'd let you know
That these things take forever
I especially am slow
But I realized that I need you
And I wondered if I could come home

Remember the time you drove all night
Just to meet me in the morning
And I thought it was strange
You said everything changed
You felt as if you just woke up
And you said,
This is the first day of my life,
I'm glad I didn't die before I met you
But now I don't care I could go anywhere with you
And I'd probably be happy.

So if you wanna be with me
With these things there's no telling
We'll just have to wait and see
But I'd rather be working for a paycheck
Than waiting to win the lottery

Besides maybe this time it's different
I mean I really think you like me...

Topical.

I know, I know, this is a silly kid’s song, but lyrically it it touches on some “deep” topics; the naturalistic fallacy, morality, corporate greed, environmentalism, etc.



How ba-a-a-ad can I be? I'm just doing what comes naturally.
How ba-a-a-ad can I be? I'm just following my destiny.
How ba-a-a-ad can I be? I'm just doing what comes naturally.
How ba-a-a-ad can I be? How bad can I possibly be?

Well there's a principle of nature (principle of nature)
That almost every creature knows.
Called survival of the fittest (survival of the fittest)
And check it this is how it goes.
The animal that eats gotta scratch and fight and claw and bite and punch.
And the animal that doesn't,
Well the animal that doesn't winds up someone else's lu-lu-lu-lu-lunch
(Munch, munch, munch, munch, munch)
I'm just sayin'.

How ba-a-a-ad can I be? I'm just doing what comes naturally.
How ba-a-a-ad can I be? I'm just following my destiny.
How ba-a-a-ad can I be? I'm just doing what comes naturally
How ba-a-a-ad can I be? How bad can I possibly be?

There's a principle in business (principle in business)
That everybody knows is sound.
It says the people with the money (people with the money)
Make this ever-loving world go 'round
So I'm biggering my company, I'm biggering my factory,
I'm biggering my corporate size.
Everybody out there, take care of yours and me?
I'll take care. of.
Mine, mine, mine, mine, mine.
(Shake that bottom line)
Let me hear you say 'smogulous smoke'
(Smogulous smoke)
Schloppity schlop
(Schloppity schlop)
Complain all you want, it's never ever, ever, ever gonna stop.
Come on how bad can I possibly be?

How ba-a-a-ad can I be? I'm just building the economy.
How ba-a-a-ad can I be? Just look at me pettin' this puppy.
How ba-a-a-ad can I be? A portion of proceeds goes to charity.
How ba-a-a-ad can I be? How bad can I possibly be? Let's see.

All the customers are buying.
(How ba-a-a-ad can I be?) And the money's multiplying.
(How ba-a-a-ad can I be?) And the PR people are lying.
(How ba-a-a-ad can I be?) And the lawyers are denying.
(How ba-a-a-ad can I be?) Who cares if a few trees are dying?
(How ba-a-a-ad can I be?) This is all so gratifying.
How bad.
How bad can this possibly be!?

That's pretty good actually, as far as these things go.


I'm not the man you think I am
I'm not that kind of guy
Beneath this sleek exterior
There's less than meets the eye

I'm just what you've been looking for
Your wildest dream come true
I'm not the man you think I am
But I'm the man for you

I'm on important business
I'm late for my premiere
I'm doing you a favor
Just by being here

Surely you can buy a drink
For someone so renowned
I'm not the man you think I am
But I'm the man you've found

I'm burning with indifference
I'm sleeping with desire
I'm selling snow to eskimos
I'm preaching to the choir

My past is catching up to me
My chips are coming due
I'm not the man you think I am
But I'm the man for you

Born down in a dead man's town
And the first kick I took was when I hit the ground
You end up like a dog that's been beat too much
'Til you spend half your life just to cover it up

Born in the U.S.A.
I was born in the U.S.A.
I was born in the U.S.A.
Born in the U.S.A.

Got in a little hometown jam
So they put a rifle in my hand
Sent me off to a foreign land
To go and kill the yellow man

Born in the U.S.A.
I was born in the U.S.A.
I was born in the U.S.A.
Born in the U.S.A.

Come back home to the refinery
Hiring man says, "Son, if it was up to me"
I go down to see the V.A. man
He said, "Son, don't you understand?"

Had a brother at Khe Sahn fighting off the Viet Cong
They're still there, he's all gone
He had a little girl in Saigon
I got a picture of him in her arms

Down in the shadow of the penitentiary
Out by the gas fires of the refinery
I'm ten years burning down the road
I've got nowhere to run and nowhere to go

Born in the U.S.A.
I was born in the U.S.A.
I was born in the U.S.A.
I'm a long time daddy in the U.S.A.
I was born in the U.S.A.
I'm a cool rocking daddy in the U.S.A.
I was born in the U.S.A.
I was born in the U.S.A.
Born in the U.S.A.
Born in the U.S.A.
I'm a long gone daddy in the U.S.A.
Born in the U.S.A.
I was...

:up:

I’d heard “Born in the USA” several times before I realized it was more of a critique of the US instead of the patriotic anthem it comes across as, which I always thought was pretty cool.

Me too! It's a sort of hidden protest song about the violence in the system and despair. The only tender verses are: He had a little girl in Saigon / I got a picture of him in her arms.

Not very deep, but it feels so good!

Billy
He's down by the railroad track
Sitting low in the back seat
Of his Cadillac
Diamond Jackie
She's so intact
And she falls so softly beneath him
Jackie's heels are stacked
Billy's got cleats on his boots
Together they're gonna boogaloo down Broadway
And come back home with the loot
It's midnight in Manhattan
This is no time to get cute
It's a mad dog's promenade
So walk tall, or baby, don't walk at all

Fish lady, fish lady
She baits those tenement walls
She won't take corner boys
Ain't got no money and they're so easy
I said, "Hey baby, won't you take my hand, walk with me down Broadway
Oh mama take my hand, and walk with me down Broadway, yeah
I'm a young man and I talk real loud, yeah baby, walk real proud for you
So shake away your city life
Shake away your street life
Shake away your sin life
And hook up to the train
Oh, hook up to the night train
Hook it up, hook up to the train etc.
But I know that she won't take the train
No, she won't take the train
No, she won't take the train etc.
She's afraid them tracks are gonna slow her down
And when she turns, this boy'll be gone
So long
Sometimes you just gotta walk on, walk on

Hey vibes man, hey jazz man
Oh play me your serenade
Any deeper blue and you're playin' in your grave
Save your notes
Don't spend them on the blues boy
Save your notes
Don't spend them on the darlin' yearlin' sharp boy
Straight for the church note ringin'
Vibes man sting a trash can
Listen to your junk man
Ah, listen to your junk man
He's singin', singin', he's singin', etc.
All dressed up in satin
Walkin' past the alley
Singin', singin’ etc.

As I was singing "BORN IN THE USAAAAAAA" at the top of my lungs in the apartment, my wife kindly reminded me that I was born in Toulouse.

So here is an attempted translation of a French ode to my hometown. To straighten things up...


How far is my hometown, how far !
Sometimes inside me come alive
The green waters of the Canal du Midi
And the red bricks of the Minimes

Oh mun païs, oh Toulouse

I walk back the avenue to the school
My schoolbag is stuffed with punches
Here, if you punch, you win
Here, even the grannies love a brall

Oh mun païs, oh Toulouse

A torrent of pebbles rolls in your accent
Your violence boils up even in your violets
We barely treat each other that we treat each other of cunts
There's a storm in the air and yet...

The Saint-Sernin church lights up the evening
A coral flower that the sun waters
Maybe that's why, despite your red and black
Maybe that's why they call you Ville Rose

I see your pavement again, oh my Gascon city
Your sidewalks ripped open on the gas pipes
Is it Spain in you that pushes its horn a little?
Or would there be a jazz bubble in your guts?

Here is the Capitol, I stop my steps there
Tenors with colds trembled under their suction cups
I still hear the echo of daddy's voice
He was my only blues singer back then

Today, your buildings are climbing high
In Blagnac, your planes are more beautiful
If one brings me back to this town
Could I still see my pinch of tiles again?

Oh mun païs, oh Toulouse



Nougaro is our Boss, in Toulouse...

I tried to translate it the best I could. Really nice theme.

El Cuarteto de Nos: Contrapunto para Humano y Computadora



The first is the charm
The third is the third
So today I challenge anyone
To come up here and face me
Whoever accepts is a suicidal
Who overrates himself
Cause nobody can beat me now
Not even the world champion coplero
or a freestyle rapper
or the best computer

Not even the best computer?
Do you, who are a mere human, say that?
You walk so proud
But your time has come
Because your ego devours you
And you are absolutely convinced you are superior
But with a sample it is enough
Today the bombs that created your minds
They are smarter
That the idiots who launch them

The idiots who lunch them
They don't represent me
But to those who invent them
Maybe you owe your trust
And although it seems like a joke
You owe your life to their invention
And I say "life" with compassion
To an unreasonable composite
Of circuits, chips and cables
Without soul or heart

Without soul or heart?
Look just who says it
When a bathroom you locate
Wash your mouth with soap
Because it's an aberration
Your morale tied with wires
Did a swarm sting your eyes?
Or is it just that you don't want to see
That there are people just like you
Thirsty and hungry

Thirsty and hungry?
And what do I have to do with that?
If those who don't do what needs to be done
They are irresponsible
Meanwhile unpresentable
A machine criticizes me
Feeling is manufactured
Without knowing what a father is
And not even on Mother's Day
Know what it means

Know what it means?
You are like Pilate
who washes his hands and is ungrateful
And his race does not dignify
Because, let's see, how do you explain to me?
That you have forgotten your elders
Forgetting what they have given you
You treat them like an inept
Disrespect them
And abandon them

Abandoned them?
If something similar happens to me
Is it because I deserve it?
Or did I fail who is besides me?
Like an entity without a past
You question with treachery
"I think therefore I exist" he would say
Our friend Descartes
But we had to think about you
Because otherwise you would not exist

Because otherwise I would not exist?
Did we get transcendental?
Your existential problems
You can't solve them, not even with philosophy
It would shame me
Not knowing what I am and I challenge him (Descartes)
They look at me suspiciously
And you still argue bitterly
If you really descended from a monkey
Or from a guy who lives in heaven

From a guy who lives in heaven?
It's a sharp reflection
I prefer to have that doubt
Than to be a piece of iron
I am my own front man
I suggest you listen to me
I choose what I prefer
And freedom you don't know what it is
You do what you can
But I do what I want

But I do what I want?
And you are prisoners of your routine?
In your houses, streets and offices
Corrupted by money
You don't know what it's like to be austere
Consuming pure shine
I tell you this and I humiliate you
The only organs that work for you
And that for sure you won't donate them
They are your wallet your the pocket

Our wallets and our pockets?
How do you think they made you?
The silver they got
For your plates and screws
Someone spent a good amount of cash
To be able to buy you
So don't send yourself the part
Because you're already getting me tired
And I'm seriously thinking
Shortly unplug you

Unplug me shortly?
How simple is your science
Resort to violence
As an argument to silence me
But I'm not going to shut up
And sooner rather than later
I see that my plea burns
And I alter his biorhythm
Although I can not imagine an algorithm
That could turn out to be so cowardly

Automaton

Wild

Artifice

Hypocrites

Clone

Primitive

Entelechy

Racist

Anathema

Intolerant

Exegete

Egocentric

Libel

Cavemen

Alien

Corrupt

Hardware

Inhumans

Go!

Go

That's pretty good, thanks!

One without lyrics, purely meditative.

And then a very long text, about Europe.

L'Europe - Noir Desir + Brigitte Fontaine

The wild boars are running free
I repeat
The wild boars are running free
Small bosses make big rivers of diamonds
Twice
The roses of Europe are the feast of Satan
I repeat
The roses of Europe are the feast of Satan…

We are currently working for Europe
If not the world

Dear old Europe, dear old continent
Authoritarian, aristocratic and libertarian whore
Bourgeois and working class, all purple and made-up like in past centuries
Staggering colossus, look at your hunched shoulders
No way to dust up in a single gesture
The old dandruff, the dead skin of yesterday
And tabula rasa
From here you'd think it's noble rot, in suspension
It still floats in the air
From that smell of sulfur
Dirty old Europe, who between two wars
And even during them caressed for his own good
The belly of his faraway lands elsewhere
And dick in hand sprinkled with his sperm the native sexes
We got up from this, we get up from everything
Even from bottomless falls
We know how to go up, we know how to go down
We can stop and we can start again

Europe of the Enlightenment or of Darkness
Barely fireflies in shadow theaters
Barely a spark in the night that settles and then recovers
And then the new dawn, after the crimes of childhood,
The errors of youth, one no longer tears off the wings
Of golden dragonflies

We are currently working for Europe
If not the world

Amnesty -- amnesty or amnesia?
What difference does it make?
In any case, we have to move forward
Let us press the step comrade, and then realize, realize, realize
There will always be something left, come on
Materialist, so at least we're sure
Not to be mistaken, and dwell in the tangible until indigestion
In the rational, until we die of it
Ruthless logic, but without meaning
Hey, Princess of History, in your forced march
We end up lost, passing under your centuries-old arches

We are currently working for Europe
If not the world

We've gone tired of your past arcana, tired of your past arcana
With technocratic charms
So then Europe, then Europe, so what Europe? Then Brussels, Schengen, Strasbourg, Maastricht, GDP, EEC, Euratom, OECD and GATT
Protect us, oh Market, from such a small world
Unique Euro-money, Nasdaq and CAC 40
Orgiastic, idyllic, make poetry, support culture
Produce shows and entertainment
As our brothers say across the Atlantic
Old Europeans, new masters of the world,
While the Asian dragon dreams
Stretches slowly
It is beautiful and powerful
Spits fire gently
While Ernest Antoine Seillière makes his appearance
And declares his flame to us, he loves us and tells us
"We are not like politicians
Subjected to the pressure of the street"
And in the distance you can hear the clamor of the crowd resounding
The beautiful overall movements, the glorious parades
And then, and then the class struggle
But now we're serious!
Hey baby, this is serious
We don't believe in anything anymore
We're building from scratch
This business and basta
We don't ride Pegasus
That was for ecstasy, and the ecstasy is gone

We are currently working for Europe
If not the world

Expansion, growth if possible, but no dreams please
Carry only dynamics
First the dough, baby and the rest will follow
That's what they say, I believe in those days
Blessed days of the globophagi
Dear old Europe, your head barely knows your legs
Who often don't understand your arms
How does it work again?
How does a body work when it is foreign to itself?
We don't know, we don't care, we still kiss each other
And we're right

Dirty old Europe, do you remember brute force?
The West got in a bad mood, made a burning war, then a cold war
And is finally weary of war, and finally weary of war

We are currently working for Europe
If not the world

Do you want some performance schools?
And here are the creative bosses of the global businesses
Dialogue on electronic commerce to sit and giggle
And spit on all exceptions, starting with this cultural thing
Stories of producers and consumers
From producer to consumer
And more middlemen than anyone cares to count
Your soul has worn out on this endless road
And on this constant coming and going, come on, let's go
Enjoy, why not? It’s gona be ok
There will be something for everyone, something for everyone.
We said for everyone, for everyone, for everyone
My ass

How high are you going to erect your ramparts?
Where are you going to build your new surrounding walls?
Something is stuck in the throat
And we want to spit it, that’s the least we can do
But you can, madam, you can talk to us
For all is not lost, no, all is not lost
From your dawn myths
Here the sun shines for everyone
And you’d better believe it

We are currently working for Europe
If not the world

Pox on your faces
I repeat
Pox on your faces
The saint's sighs and the fairy's cries are no longer heard at the bankers' banquet
One time
The hermit's pot is filled with rubies
I repeat
The hermit's pot is filled with rubies
Old Europe is the mackerel of the pink ballets
Twice
When the sirens fall silent, the birds of prey scream
I repeat
When the sirens fall silent, the birds of prey scream
The red and black of tortures are the flowers of evil
I repeat
The red and black of tortures are the flowers of evil
The day of the West is the night of the East
Twice
The day of the West is the night of the East
I am not chauvinistic but France is still the queen of cheeses
Tryphon Tournesol is a zouave
Six times
Spilled blood is the cup of tea of fairground giants
Twice
It's raining cats and dogs on the Concorde
It's raining cats and dogs on the Concorde
Model girls are Europe’s elected representatives
I repeat
Model girls are Europe’s elected representatives
Fuck security
Twice
Megalomania kills mockingbirds
I repeat
Megalomania kills mockingbirds
If you can't find anything, look for something else
Peace in Switzerland!
I repeat
Peace in Switzerland!
Blood weddings set the horizon on fire
Twice
Europe’s mascara is flowing on her dress
Twice
Life begins now
And now
And now
Europe is a small mortal goddess
Twice
The childhood of art is a sunrise
I repeat
The childhood of art is a sunrise

We are currently working for Europe
If not the world…

Another text by Nougaro, on the music of Berimbau (Baden Powell & Vinicius de Moraes)


Regarde-la ma ville
Elle s'appelle Bidon
Bidon, Bidon, Bidonville
Vivre là-dedans c'est cotton
Les filles qui ont la peau douce
La vendent pour manger
Dans les chambres l'herbe pousse
Pour y dormir faut se pousser
Les gosses jouent mais le ballon
C'est une boite de sardine, bidon

Donne-moi ta main camarade
Toi qui viens d'un pays
Où les hommes sont beaux
Donne-moi ta main camarade
J'ai cinq doigts moi aussi
On peut se croire égaux

Regarde-la ma ville
Elle s'appelle bidon
Bidon, bidon, bidonville
Me tailler d'ici, à quoi bon
Pourquoi veux-tu que je me perde
Dans tes cités, à quoi ça sert!
Je verrai toujours de la merde
Même dans le bleu de la mer
Je dormirais sur des millions
Je reverrai toujours bidon

Donne-moi ta main camarade
Toi qui viens d'un pays
Où les hommes sont beaux
Donne-moi ta main camarade
J'ai cinq doigts moi aussi
On peut se croire égaux

Serre-moi la main, camarade
Je te dis au revoir
Je te dis à bientôt
Bientôt, bientôt
On pourra se parler, camarade
Bientôt, bientôt
On pourra s'embrasser, camarade
Bientôt, bientôt
Les oiseaux, les jardins, les cascades
Bientôt, bientôt
Le soleil dansera, camarade
Bientôt, bientôt
Je t'attends, je t'attends, camarade

Birds flyin' high, you know how I feel
Sun in the sky, you know how I feel
Breeze driftin' on by, you know how I feel
It's a new dawn, it's a new day, it's a new life for me
Yeah, it's a new dawn, it's a new day, it's a new life for me, ooooooooh

And I'm feelin' good

Fish in the sea, you know how I feel
River runnin' free, you know how I feel
Blossom on the tree, you know how I feel
It's a new dawn, it's a new day, it's a new life for me

And I'm feelin' good

Dragonfly out in the sun, you know what I mean, don't you know
Butterflies all havin' fun, you know what I mean
Sleep in peace when day is done: that's what I mean
And this old world is a new world and a bold world for me

Stars when you shine, you know how I feel
Scent of the pine, you know how I feel
Oh, freedom is mine, and I know how I feel
It's a new dawn, it's a new day, it's a new life for me

And I'm feelin'... good

"Feelin' Good" (2:53)
I Put A Spell On You, 1965
written by A. Newley & L. Bricusse, 1964
performed by Nina Simone ♡

Freight train, freight train, run so fast
Freight train, freight train, run so fast
Please don't tell what train I'm on
They won't know what route I'm going

When I'm dead and in my grave
No more good times here I crave
Place the stones at my head and feet
And tell them all I've gone to sleep

When I die, Lord, bury me deep
Down at the end of old Chestnut Street
So I can hear old Number Nine
As she comes rolling by

When I die, Lord, bury me deep
Down at the end of old Chestnut Street
Place the stones at my head and feet
And tell them all I've gone to sleep

Freight train, freight train, run so fast
Freight train, freight train, run so fast
Please don't tell what train I'm on
They won't know what route I'm going