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01-07-2002, 18:32 | ||
Citaat:
hij wil de uitleg hebben heb ik btw ook wel belang bij
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Als je geen doel hebt, kan je ook de weg niet kwijt zijn.
A wise man once told me: There are many endings, but the right one is the one you choose. |
01-07-2002, 20:03 | |
lyrics
Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy? Caught in a land-side, no escape from reality Open your eyes Look up to the skiesand see, I'm just a poor boy, I need n sympathy, because I'm easy come, easy go Little high, little low and way the wind blows Doesn't really matter to me, to me Mama, just killed a man Put a gun againts his head, Pulled my tigger, now he's dead Mama, life had just begun But now, I've gone and thrown it all away Mama, ooh didn't mean to make you cry If I'm not back again this time tomorrow Carry on, carry on as If nothing really matters Too late, my time has come Sends shivers down my spine; Body's aching all the time Goodbye, everybody, I've got to go Gotta leave you all behind and face the truth Mama, ooh (which ever way the wind blows) I don't want to die I sometimes wish) I'd never been born at all I see a little silhouetto of a man Scaramouche, scaramouche Will you do the fandango thunderbolt and lighting Very, very frightning me Gallileo, gallileo, gallileo, gallileo, gallileo Figaro, magnifico I'm just a poor boy and nobody loves me * He's just a poor boy from a poor family Spare him his life from This monstrosity Easy come, easy go Wiil you let me go, bismillah ** No, we will not let you go Let him go! bismilah! We will not let you go Let him go! bismilah! We will not let you go, let him go Will not let you go let me go Will not let you go, let me go ah… Oh mama mia, mama mia, let me go Beelzebub has a devil put a side for me, for me, for me So you think you can stone me and spit in my eye So you think you can love me and leave to die Oh, baby, can't do this to me, baby Just gotta get out Just gotta get right outta here Nothing really matters, any one can see Nothing really matters Nothing really matters to me Any way the wind blows
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ostensibly motionless, the hare was tremblingg wtih excitement, for without his spectacles he appeared completely helpless!
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01-07-2002, 20:15 | ||
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NIZ| tegenpartij|Kriminalpolizei!!|De hele mikmak| Dank voor die bloemen
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01-07-2002, 20:27 | ||
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Als je geen doel hebt, kan je ook de weg niet kwijt zijn.
A wise man once told me: There are many endings, but the right one is the one you choose. |
01-07-2002, 21:12 | |
Ik zal het ook ff hier plaatsen
Letterlijk opgevat handelt het over een jongen, die zijn leven vergooid heeft door iemand te vermoorden. Mama, just killed a man Dat kan hij niet aan, en pleegt zelfmoord Too late, my time has come Vervolgens komt zijn oordeel en gaan de Duivel en God twisten over zijn lot (Hemel/hel), en houdt de persoon een pleidooi I´m just a poor boy from a poor family Schijnbaar wordt het de hel Beelzebub has a devil put aside for me, for me, for me Het laatste stuk is mij vaag. moet ik nog even over denken. Maar goed, letterlijk gezien gaat het daar dus over. Impliciet zou je het kunnen betrekken op het al dan niet vergeven van iemand die iets heel erg fouts heeft gedaan Zoiets
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ostensibly motionless, the hare was tremblingg wtih excitement, for without his spectacles he appeared completely helpless!
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01-07-2002, 23:30 | ||
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Bismilah is arabisch, en betekend "in de naam van Allah"
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Was ik laatst bij 'n fijne rel, breekt er opeens een voetbalwedstrijd uit.***~Nachtploeg member~
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02-07-2002, 10:56 | ||
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misschien iets in de trand van: hij staat bij de hellepoort: "in naam van Allah (of God) laat hem gaan!!" nouja... dus zegmaar de discussie of hij naar de hemel of de hel moet?
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NIZ| tegenpartij|Kriminalpolizei!!|De hele mikmak| Dank voor die bloemen
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02-07-2002, 11:15 | ||
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Sig Heil
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02-07-2002, 19:26 | ||
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NIZ| tegenpartij|Kriminalpolizei!!|De hele mikmak| Dank voor die bloemen
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02-07-2002, 19:32 | ||
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Sometimes I think that a true love can never be, I just believe that somehow it wasn't meant for me. Life can be cruel in a way that I can't explain.
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12-07-2002, 00:44 | ||
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1 Een man vermoord iemand maar toont berouw aan zijn familie 2.Het proces 3.Op zoek naar zijn innerlijke en de vraag om vergiffenis, maar helaas te laat Ik heb het uit moeten pluizen, omdat ik het zelf op mijn popkoor ook zing en we dus de juiste intonatie bij het juiste stuk moeten kunnen zingen, vandaar... |
12-07-2002, 08:36 | |
En het 'nothing really matters to me' slaat erop dat hij verloren is, al vóór zijn executie. Niets doet er meer toe voor hem.
Scaramouche is trouwens "a stock character who appears as a boastful coward" (vertaling???) Het stuk "So you think you can stone me... right outta here" slaat denk ik op verraad... Je denkt dat je me kunt stenigen en in m'n oog spuwen, je denkt dat je van me kunt houden en me laten sterven??? Het kan verraad zijn, misschien ook in de steek gelaten ofzo... Dat zijn vrienden heb geen alibi voor de moord wilden verschaffen ofzo. Nog een vraag: in welke tijd speelt het zich af? Grtz, F |
12-07-2002, 19:20 | |
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Bismillah" is the opening word in the Qu'ran (Koran) and literally means "In the name of Allah."
"Scaramouch" according to the dictionary means "a stock character who appears as a boastful coward." "Beelzebub" is one of the many names given to the Devil (yes, it is spelled this way-not as above). "Fandango" is a Spanish dance done in triple time. ---------- I'm not sure about the details, but I've always thought of this song as Freddy's battle with AIDS. It sort of makes sence, realizing that when he speaks of killing a man, he is speaking about himself, and that he is acting as his own judge and jury. It's a song of self-dissapointment that he had gone and killed himself... Maybe it's just me... ---------- Want my overanalyzed take? It's pretentious, silly and yes, overanalyzed, and completely destroys the entire song! It turns a cool song into another piece of dirt and manages to be glaringly wrong in the way! Okay, let's make it the classic stages of acceptance after a shock. He just killed someone. Duh. It's in the lyrics. First comes shock. Note the 'is this the real life / is this just fantasy' it opens with and the dreamlike tune it's in. (from this point on, it's all within his head. All of it.) Note also the 'I need no sympathy' melodramatic nobleness he takes on in a play to get sympathy. He comes back to the world, and immediately tries to turn to the childhood source of sympathy, his mother. He tries again to act like a hero, telling her 'nothing really matters' (in his mind, of course. it's all in his mind.) The chill of what he has just done rips across him, and at the first glimpse of pain he immediately goes into the classic 'I wish I was never born!'-type complete theatrical show, hoping once again for sympathy. Now comes the weird (albeit exceedingly cool) part. The trial. First his 'judges' (representing the severity and harsh reality of the consequences) come forth, half-threatening him with taunts of "scaramouche / scaramouche / will you do the Fandango" (it's defined above) He crumples, first expressing shock. Then, he twists his earlier defeated hero's claims to say "I'm just a poor boy, nobody loves me" in a direct appeal to reality. His other side, however, rushes in to try to save him from himself, begging the judges to release him. He appeals, and is rejected. His consul appeals several times in turn to allow him to stay in his own dreamlike state of deconnectedness. The judges continue to strike down his pleas, growing more and more forceful, until he finally realizes that he has lost. First is a generic "well, I lost. I'm going to hell, and I've got a demon with my name on it" first realization. Then comes the anger phase. He strikes back at the world and himself with guitars in the background (note the playing of a much stronger version of the theme from the opening "mama" part) . He then tries to escape outright, claiming he's "just gotta get out / just gotta get right out of here". However, after a crecendo, he realizes that he's not about to win anything or survive anything, so he simply resigns. It's very similar to the opening sequence--although instead of a dream, he seems much more lucid in this state. He repeats much of what he's said earlier, only now he either believes it or has no choice but to accept it. There. I think it's an interpretation of the process gone through after a shock. It's quite obviously wrong, but I can't help but thinking it. Besides, it's my favorite song. Let me warp it however I want by pkjun on 04-23-2002 @ 08:41PM By the way, listen to weird al's Bohemian Rap City. It's the best satire of this song ever made. It's just the same lyrics and tune of this--to a polka beat with polka instruments. It really does a great job of showing what a silly, pretentious song this really is. |
12-07-2002, 19:21 | |
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oh ja bron
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14-07-2002, 02:05 | ||
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Mein Name ist Joachim von Hassel/Ich bin Pilot der Bundeswehr/und sende Ihnen aus meinem Flugzeug/den Funkspruch den niemand hört
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18-07-2002, 12:54 | ||
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`·.¸¸.·´´¯`··._.·It's self-perpetuating a parahumanoidarianised®! `·.¸¸.·´´¯`··._.·
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