unknown

(written by townes van zandt)
Strange to see, the sun don't shine today
But i ain't in the mood for sunshine anyway
Maybe i'll go insane, got to stop the pain
Maybe i'll go down to see kathleen
Swallow comes, tells me her dreams
Says she'd like to know just what they mean
Feel like i could die as i watch her flying by
Riding the north wind down to see kathleen

Stars hang high with the ocean roar
The moon has come to lead me to a door
It's crystal `cross the sand, the waves they take my hand
Soon i'm gonna see my sweet kathleen
Soon i'm gonna see my sweet kathleen

(repeat all 3 verses)

Plus de liaisons
Plus de trahisons
Plus de liaisons
Comment devineras-tu ?
Si je tremble dans tes bras
Si je soupire dans tes cheveux
Cette derniere liaison
Maintenant plus de trahisons
Plus de liaisons
Comment devineras-tu ?
Si mes bras tremblent
Si j'evite ton regard
Cette derniere liaison

Plus de liaisons
Plus de trahisons
Plus de liaisons
Non, plus de trahisons
Plus de liaisons
Comment devineras-tu ?

Si je tremble dans tes bras
Si je soupire dans tes cheveux
Cette derniere liaison
Quelque part dans ma tete
Je sais ce qui se passe
Mais tout ca a grandi
Ne me laisse pas le choix
S'amuser seulement
Ca me semble un tel crime a present
Va jouer, jouer sur la route
Et tu mourras ecrasee

Plus de liaisons
Plus de trahisons
Plus de liaisons
Comment devineras-tu ?

C'etait spontane
Mais on a rappele les autres
On s'est amuse avec nos precedents amants
Il y a foule la-dedans

Plus de liaisons

(by tom waits)

Mockin' bird, high in the tree
Looks like you've got the best of me
Mockin' bird, singing a song
Well, mockin' bird is mocking me now that you're gone
Mocki'n bird, on top of my roof
Blowin' notes on top of my roof
Mockin' bird singing a song
Well, mockin' bird is mocking me now that you're gone
Mockin' bird, high in the tree
I'm looking up at you, you're looking down at me
Mockin' bird, singing a song
Well, the mockin' bird is mocking me now that you're gone
Throw up some papers, try to scare him away
Look down at me, this what he says. . .
Mockin' bird, high in the tree
Looks like you've got the best of me
Mockin' bird, singing a song
Well, the mockin' bird is mocking me now that you're gone

She fell in love with my singing
She knew the bells started ringing
She thought there was only her there
But, me, i just live for the clapping
A hand delivery of an invite to my premiere
When he fell in love, i was acting
I sent her flowers, asked her to marry me
But all i heard was their clapping
Now she cries with a cigarrette at the window
He croons and moans like he's hurting
She cries so well
He croons and moans, just croons and moans
Now, i never thought [i had no idea] she needed direction
And he was at the mercy of his writers
For the songs i needed [for me] to touch her
Those sad, sad songs to make me happy
Now she cries with a cigarrette at the window
He croons and moans like he's hurting
She cries so well
He croons and moans, just croons and moans
We re-enact the love scenes from her/my movies
But i never thought, but she uses a stand-in
His voice is croakier every day now
And she cries so well

Harry was a contented dog. but he awoke this morning and something was very wrong. he couldn't be bothered to beg for mid-morning biscuits. he couldn't be bothered to roll over and rub his back
E rough floor. he couldn't be bothered to scratch at anything that might be nibbling away at him. he just lay on top of his kennel feeling thoroughly depressed. even his tail wouldn't wag.
Four months earlier, his owner (an elderly gentlemen whom harry had been devoted to ever since he was a puppy) had been temporarily forced to leave the country, leaving harry with a trustworthy, caring couple who lived around the corner. things hadn't been so bad at first: long walks, hearty dinners; even his kennel was in the same spot in their yard -- just to the right of the back door.

This is the same kennel that harry had now been moping on top of for three days. despite the best efforts of the young, caring couple to cheer him up -- offers of chicken and an endless stream of un-fetched balls sent rolling down the yard -- nothing could coax harry from his gloom. so, it was decided to send him to the vet.

Harry was a large dog and heavy-withered, and he was in no mood to climb down from his kennel and trot to the waiting car to travel two miles to the surgery. eventually, he was lifted, with the aid of a neighbor, onto a blanket and hobbled from kennel to car; from the car to the vet's. when, once, harry would have put up a fight before going within 500 yards of this place, during the whole journey, he never raised an eyebrow. of course, the vet could find nothing wrong with harry; mentioned depression; suggested chicken and balls; sent harry home to rest, still wrapped in the blanket. took seven days for the notification to come through. the owner had died in his sleep, leaving specific instructions for harry to be put down. harry was a dead dog.