Autor Tema: el codido Dy Lincci  (Leído 3706 veces)

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« Respuesta #45 on: Mayo 29, 2006, 06:50:35 pm »
GENERATION X LYRICS

"Ready Steady Go"

Ready, Steady, Go
I'm not in love with television
I'm not in love with the radio
I'm not in love with the Kings Road
Because I'm in love with Cathy McGowan - she said

Ready steady go - all things she said
Ready steady go - wasn't it fabulous
Ready (ready) steady (steady) go

I'm not in love with Juke Box Jury
I'm not in love with thank you Jucky stars
I'm not in love with T'T'T'Twiggy
Because I'm in love with Cathy McGowan - she said

Ready steady go - all things she said
Ready steady go - wasn't it fabulous
Ready (ready) steady (steady) go

I'm still in love with the Beatles
I was in love with the Stones, no satisfaction
I was in love with Bobby Dylan
Because I'm in love with Rock'n'Roll

Ready steady go - all things she said
Ready steady go - wasn't it fabulous
Ready (ready) steady (steady) go


quien canta es billy idol cuando tenia pelo negro

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« Respuesta #46 on: Mayo 29, 2006, 07:02:47 pm »
NINE DAYS


  Bob dylan  

 

 


Bobby's in the basement making his movie,
He paints a little picture but not to be cheesy.
He wants this little girl to believe in him easy,
Bristles to the canvas imagining he feels high.
Inspriation of my heart search for light out of the dark.
All the pictures in my heart lie awake there in my fog.
This oasis in my arms I approach it with disarm.
Though it might do me some harm stop to catch me if I fall.
Bobby's in the basement making his music,
He never won't stop though not to abuse it.
If there's some other way that they only would use it,
He lives another day but they always refuse it.
Lacerations of my heart.
Dropped down in peices in the dark.
Mixed the words up on this page.
Makes the purple turn to beige.
Inspriation of my heart search for light out of the dark.
All the pictures in my heart lie awake there in my fog.
This oasis in my arms I approach it with disarm.
Though it might do me some harm stop to catch me if I fall.
It's just like Bob Dylan says...
Stop depression of my own walk the only road I know.
If I am only dreamin' then I am not that far from it.
Sow the strength that grows from seeds worship creativity.
If I am only dreamin' then me an' Bob are not that far today.
So long as I'm young.
Bobby's in the basement making his music.
I search the beaches walk the sand.
I cut my feet on broken glass.
Strap the sandals on my feet.
I'm run down but I still hit the street.
Inspriation of my heart search for light out of the dark.
All the pictures in my heart lie awake there in my fog.
This oasis in my arms I approach it with disarm.
Though it might do me some harm stop to catch me if I fall.
It's just like Bob Dylan says...
Stop depression of my own walk the only road I know.
If I am only dreamin' then I am not that far from it.
Sow the strength that grows from seeds worship creativity.
If I am only dreamin' then me an' Bob are not that far today.
So long as I'm young.

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el codido Dy Lincci
« Respuesta #47 on: Mayo 29, 2006, 07:08:00 pm »
ANIMALS

 The story of bo diddley  
 



Now lets hear the story of Bo Diddley and the Rock n Roll scene in general
Bo Diddley was born Elias McDaniels in a place called McCoom,
Missississipi about 1926
He moved to Chicago about 1938
Where his name was eventually changed to Bo Diddley

He practiced the guitar everyday and sometimes into the night
Till his papa's hair began to turn white
His Pa said "Son, listen hear, I know
You can stay but that guitar has just gotta go"
So he pulled his hat down over his eyes
Headed out for them Western Skies
I think Bob Dylan said that
He hit New York City

He began to play at the Apollo in Harlem
Good scene there everybody raving
One day, one night, came a Cadillac with four head lights
Came a man with a big, long, fat, cigar said, "C'mere son, I'm gonna make you a star"
Bo Diddley said, "Uh..whats in it for me?"
Man said, "Shut your mouth son , play the guitar and you just wait and see"

Well, that boy made it, he made it real big
And so did the rest of the rock n roll scene along with him
And a white guy named Johnny Otis took Bo Diddleys rhythm
He changed it into hand-jive and it went like this
In a little old country town one day
A little old country band began to play
Add two guitars and a beat up saxophone
When the drummer said, boy, those cats begin to roam
Oh baby oh we oh oh
Ooh la la that rock and roll
Ya hear me oh we oh oh
Ooh la la that rock and roll

Then in the U.S. music scene there was big changes made
Due to circumstances beyond our control such as payola
The rock n roll scene died after two years of solid rock and you got discs like, ah...
Take good care of my baby
Please don't ever make her blue and so forth

About, ah, one year later in a place called Liverpool in England
Four young lads with mop haircuts began to sing stuff like, ah...
It's been a hard days night and I;ve been working like a dog and so on
In a place called Richmond in Surrey, whay down in the deep south
They got guys with long hair down their back singing
I wanna be your lover baby I wanna be your man yeah and all that jazz

Now we've doing this number, Bo Diddley, for quite some time now
Bo Diddley visited this country last year
We were playing at the Club A Gogo in Newcastle, our home town
The doors opened one night and to our surprise walked in the man himself, Bo Diddley
Along with him was Jerome Green, his maraca man, and the Duchess, his gorgeous sister

And a we were doing this number
Along with them came the Rolling Stones, the Mersey Beats,
They're all standing around diggin' it
And I overheard Bo Diddley talkin'
He turned around to Jermone Green
And he said, "Hey, Jerome? What do you think these guys doin' our..our material?"
Jerome said, "Uh, where's the bar, man? Please show me to the bar..."
He turned around the Duchess
And he said, "Hey Duchess...what do you think of these young guys doin' our material?"
She said, "I don't know. I only came across here to see the changin' of the guards and all that jazz."

Well, Bo Diddley looked up and said to me, with half closed eyes and a smile,
He said "Man," took off his glasses,
He said, "Man, that sure is the biggest load of rubbish I ever heard in my life..."

Hey Bo Diddley
Oh Bo Diddley
Yeah Bo Diddley
Oh Bo Diddley
Yeah Bo Diddley

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el codido Dy Lincci
« Respuesta #48 on: Mayo 29, 2006, 07:11:04 pm »
Yummy Down On



Bloodhound Gang



Ouch it won’t reach my mouth
If I could do it myself I’d probably never leave the house
But I can’t so here’s where you come in
Giving it "Diff’rent Strokes" just like Arnold Drummond
Hummin’ hmm hmm good like Campbell’s
And you’ll handle the sack like the quarterback Randall
Cunningham like Joanie loves Chachi
They call him Ralph Mouth ‘cause he’s down on Potsie
Rocky chasing the chicken
Watch the plot thicken with the cock when your lickin’
Me like Apollo your Creed my Mission
You go down for the count I countdown ignition
Blast off you’re a rocket scientist
A genius what I mean is you suck at this
So escargot ‘cause my snail needs Frenchin’
You must be five stars cause my staff’s at full attention

Yummy down on this down on this down on this
Yummy down on this down on this down on this
Yummy down on this down on this down on this
Yummy down on this down on this down on this



Dinner for one I know you got your reservations
Starvation like a Third World Nation
So do it for the children and I’ll make a donation
My fly’s in your eyes let me rise to the occasion
In my Underoos I tend to be brief
So when you’re sinking your teeth deep into my beef
You can fondle but it’s kind of like McDonald’s realize it’s
Just a Happy Meal so you can’t Super Size it
Told to hold the pickle then you went and blew it
Gherkin off and the Special Sauce comes included
But you knew it did so concentrate like Tropicana
To eat a Chiquita you need to grow the banana
So can ya Bob like Dylan on my Peter like Criss
‘Til it’s Chubby like Checker c’mon baby do the twist
It’s all in the wrist like table tennis
So beat me like Betty Crocker cake mix

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el codido Dy Lincci
« Respuesta #49 on: Mayo 29, 2006, 07:16:52 pm »
Beastie Boys

3-Minute Rule

Stay up all night go to sleep watching Dragnet
Never sleep alone because Jimmy's the magnet
I'm so rope they call me Mr. Roper
When the troubles arise I'm the cool coper
On the mic I score just like the Yankees
Get over on Ms. Crabtree like my main man Spankee
Excuse me young lady I don't mean to trouble ya
But you're looking mighty fine inside your B.M.W.
I got lucky I brought home a kitten
Before I got busy I slipped on the mitten
Can't get better odds cause I'm a sure thing
Proud Mary keeps on turning rolling like a Ring Ding
Jump the turnstile never pay the toll
Doo wa diddy bust with the pre-roll
Customs jails me over an herb seed
Don't rat on your boy over some rat weed
I'm out of your back door and into another
Your boyfriend doesn't know about me and your mother
Not perfect grammar always perfect timing
The Mike stands for money and the D. is for diamonds


Roses are red the sky is blue
I got my barrel at your neck so what the fuck you gonna do
It's just two wheels and me the wind in my eyes
The engine is the music and my nine's by my side
Cause you know Y. A. U. C. H.
I'm takin' all M.C.'s out in the place
Takin' life as it comes no fool am I
I'm goin' off gettin' paid and I don't ask why
Playin' beats on my box makin' music for the many
Know alota def girls that would do anything
A lot of parents like to think I'm a villain
I'm just chillin' like Bob Dylan
I smoke cheeba it helps me with my brain
I might be a little dusted but I'm not insane
People come up to me and they try to talk shit man
I've been making records since you were sucking on your mother's
dick


Girl you're walking tall now with your fancy clothes
You got fancy things going up your nose
You get fancy gifts from expensive men
You're a dog on a leash like a pig in a pen
Mothership connection getting girl's affection
If your life needs correction don't follow my direction
You got your 8 by 10 your agent your Harley
You be driving around Hollywood yes sorry charlie
Cause I'm running things like some Mack motherfucker
Your only claim to fame is you're a false fake sucker
You slip you slack you clock me you lack
While I'm reading on the road by my man Jack Kerouac
Poetry in motion coconut lotion
I had to diss the girl because she got too emotional
Are you experienced little girl
I want to know what goes on in your little girl world
Cause I'm on your mind it's hard to forget me
I'll take your pride for a ride if you let me
So peace out ya'll I'm PCP so I'm out
Full throttle to the bottle and full full clout
And I'm out

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el codido Dy Lincci
« Respuesta #50 on: Mayo 29, 2006, 07:24:33 pm »
Cub -

 New York City






     

You called me last night
On the telephone
And I was glad to hear from you
'Cos I was all alone
You said it's snowing, it's snowing
God I hate this weather
Now I'd walk through blizzards
Just to get us back together

We met in the springtime
At a rock'n'roll show
It was in the Bowery
When it was time to go
We kissed on the subway
In the middle of the night
I held your hand, you held mine
It was the best night of my life

'Cos everyone's your friend
In New York City
And everything looks beautiful
When you're young and pretty
The streets are paved with diamonds
And there's just so much to see
But the best thing about New York City is
You and me

Statue of Liberty, Staten Island ferry
Bob Dylan's lived and Breakfast at Tiffany's
Central Park, Brooklyn Bridge
The Empire State where King Kong lives
Coney Island and Times Square
Rockefeller Centre
Wish I was there...

You wrote me a letter
Just the other day
Said springtime is coming soon
So why don't you come to stay
I packed my stuff, I'm on the bus
I can't believe it's true
I'm three days from New York City
And I'm three days from you

And everyone's my friend
In New York City
And everything looks beautiful
When you're young and pretty
The streets are paved with diamonds
And there's just so much to see
But the best thing about New York City is
You and me...
You and me...
You and me...
You and me...

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« Respuesta #51 on: Mayo 29, 2006, 07:46:26 pm »
Jackson Alan

Gone Country

She's been playing in a room on a strip
For ten years in Vegas
Every night she looks in the mirror
But she only ages
She's been reading about Nashville and all
The records that everybody's buying
Says 'I'm a simple girl myself
Grew up on Long Island'
So she packs her bags to try to her hand
Says this might be my last chance

She's gone country, look at then boots
She's gone country, but to her roots
She's gone country, a new kind of suit
She's gone country, here she comes

Well the folk scene is dead
But he's holding out in the village
He's been writing songs speaking out
Against wealth and privilege
He says 'I dont believe in money
But a man could make him a killin'
Cause some of that stuff dont sound
Much different than Dylan
I hear down there it's changed you see
They're not as backwards as they used to be

He's gone country, look at then boots
He's gone country, but to her roots
He's gone country, a new kind of suit
He's gone country, here he comes

He commutes to LA
But he's got a house in the valley
But the bills are piling up
And the pop scene just aint on the rally
He says 'Honey I'm a serious composer
Schooled in voice and composition
But with the crime and the smog these days
This aint no place for children
Lord it sounds so easy it shouldnt take long
Be back in the money in no time at all'

He's gone country, look at then boots
He's gone country, but to her roots
He's gone country, a new kind of suit
He's gone country, here he comes
Yeah he's gone country, a new kind of walk
He's gone country, a new kind of talk
He's gone country, look at them boots
He's gone country, oh back to his roots

He's gone country
He's gone country
Everybody's gone country
Yeah we've gone country
The whole world's gone country

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el codido Dy Lincci
« Respuesta #52 on: Junio 01, 2006, 12:57:07 pm »
VEO QUE NADIE DICE NI MU EN ESTE POST  , JAJAJJA  NO IMPORTA


 DATO MUY BUENO DEL CHICO MIGRAÑA  , PARA LA GIRA DEL 78 METIO EN EL CORO A LA ACRIZ DE LA SERIE ( LA  ESPOSA  ) DE MATRIMNIO CON HIJOS QUE CANTABA MUY MAL Y TRAIA MUCHOS PROBELMAS  A LAS OTRAS 2 CORISTAS .
LA PUSO EN SU BANDA PORQUE ERA SU NOVIA  ASI DE FACIL .
DYLAN CON LAS MUJERES NO ES NI UN TONTO , LO QUE PASA ES QUE NO VENDE SUS ROMANCES COMO MUCHA GENTE .
SALUDOS  8)

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« Respuesta #53 on: Junio 01, 2006, 05:12:30 pm »
es que no me se mas canciones donde figure bob...................

Cucho tenes el Blood on The Tracks???.....si no lo tenes en cd orig...te envio uno con la revista rollingstone....trae buenas fotos!!

enviame un PM

Desconectado JUANPABLOS87

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el codido Dy Lincci
« Respuesta #54 on: Junio 01, 2006, 05:18:34 pm »
Chris la revista trae ese cd???
"Steal a little and they'll put you in jail, steal a lot and they'll make you king..."

Roba un poco y te pondran en la carcel, roba mucho y te convertiran en rey... BOB DYLAN

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« Respuesta #55 on: Junio 01, 2006, 05:29:40 pm »
Cita de: "JUANPABLOS87"
Chris la revista trae ese cd???

te acordas que tambien salio el let it bleed....los mejores discos de las historia...el de bob es el nro 4........

en algunos quioscos la conseguis si la mandas a pedir........es genial...ademas el disco es incoseguible ya.......porque los reeditaron importados......asi que a 20 pesos es un regalo cd + revista

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« Respuesta #56 on: Junio 16, 2006, 08:26:52 pm »
Bueno....escuchando Sabina el otro dia...me acorde de este tema que nombra a Bob Dylan-....del disco Juez y PArte......un disco genial....mucho rock y pop y baladas geniales......





Incompatibilidad de caracteres

Setenta veces siete lo intenté, si me largo
para siempre es porque no puedo más,
no tengo nada que perder
sólo el miedo a la soledad.
Me temo que esta vez es el fin,
adiós amor, adiós mujeres.
Debe ser un caso de
incompatibilidad de caracteres.
Cada vez que digo que sí
ella en cambio opina que no,
siempre que prefiero dormir
ella insiste en hacer el amor,
si la engaño con una rócker,
ella me la da con un mod,
cada vez que yo ligo un póker
ella lleva una escalera de color.
Cuando le propongo salir me contesta
“ni pensarlo, hogar, dulce hogar”.
Canto algo de Bob
Dylan y protesta (maldición, su rollo es el vals).
Si me excita el sesenta y nueve
me grita: “quiero un cuarenta y dos”.
Siempre que en mi piso de Tabernillas llueve
en su buhardilla brilla el sol.
…Adiós amor, adiós mujeres.
Debe ser un caso de in-
compatibilidad de caracteres.
Cuando me mudé al Albaicyn
ella en su Lavapiés se quedó,
si coreo el “Hala Madrid”
me responde “Atleti campeón”.
(Visca el Barça!)
Cuando doy un paso adelante
ella da dos pasos atrás,
si ando loco por una amante
me echa un poco de bromuro en el coñac.
Siempre que la voy a besar
me lo impide un repentino ataque de tos,
trato de dejar
de fumar, y por mi santo me regala un cartón.
Cuando de repente la olvido
jura que se muere por mí.
Siempre que por fin me suicido
acto seguido le entran ganas de vivir.
Incompatibilidad de caracteres.

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el codido Dy Lincci
« Respuesta #57 on: Junio 17, 2006, 09:50:34 pm »
jokerman
                                                           que tema !!!

Standing on the waters casting your bread
While the eyes of the idol with the iron head are glowing.
Distant ships sailing into the mist,
You were born with a snake in both of your fists while a hurricane was blowing.
Freedom just around the corner for you
But with the truth so far off, what good will it do?

Jokerman dance to the nightingale tune,
Bird fly high by the light of the moon,
Oh, oh, oh, Jokerman.

So swiftly the sun sets in the sky,
You rise up and say goodbye to no one.
Fools rush in where angels fear to tread,
Both of their futures, so full of dread, you don't show one.
Shedding off one more layer of skin,
Keeping one step ahead of the persecutor within.

Jokerman dance to the nightingale tune,
Bird fly high by the light of the moon,
Oh, oh, oh, Jokerman.

You're a man of the mountains, you can walk on the clouds,
Manipulator of crowds, you're a dream twister.
You're going to Sodom and Gomorrah
But what do you care? Ain't nobody there would want to marry your sister.
Friend to the martyr, a friend to the woman of shame,
You look into the fiery furnace, see the rich man without any name.

Jokerman dance to the nightingale tune,
Bird fly high by the light of the moon,
Oh, oh, oh, Jokerman.

Well, the Book of Leviticus and Deuteronomy,
The law of the jungle and the sea are your only teachers.
In the smoke of the twilight on a milk-white steed,
Michelangelo indeed could've carved out your features.
Resting in the fields, far from the turbulent space,
Half asleep near the stars with a small dog licking your face.

Jokerman dance to the nightingale tune,
Bird fly high by the light of the moon,
Oh. oh. oh. Jokerman.

Well, the rifleman's stalking the sick and the lame,
Preacherman seeks the same, who'll get there first is uncertain.
Nightsticks and water cannons, tear gas, padlocks,
Molotov cocktails and rocks behind every curtain,
False-hearted judges dying in the webs that they spin,
Only a matter of time 'til night comes steppin' in.

Jokerman dance to the nightingale tune,
Bird fly high by the light of the moon,
Oh, oh, oh, Jokerman.

It's a shadowy world, skies are slippery gray,
A woman just gave birth to a prince today and dressed him in scarlet.
He'll put the priest in his pocket, put the blade to the heat,
Take the motherless children off the street
And place them at the feet of a harlot.
Oh, Jokerman, you know what he wants,
Oh, Jokerman, you don't show any response.

Jokerman dance to the nightingale tune,
Bird fly high by the light of the moon,
Oh, oh, oh, Jokerman.

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« Respuesta #58 on: Junio 22, 2006, 10:11:39 am »
me gusta esto que escrbieron en el viejos dioses.......Dylan realmente era miraña....y de mente perversa.....


6 de noviembre.Brian estaba atiborrado de pastillas, con su altibajos, recuperándose de las actuaciones de Newark, autenticas fiestas del chillido. No se lo estaba pasando bien en la gira. Además de sus heridas de escenario, una chica le había pegado en la cabeza con una botella de cerveza, cuando el se propaso en la habitaciones de un hotel. Un par de noches antes, alguien le pego una bronca en un club llamado The Pone Booth y Brian rompió un vaso y le hizo un corte en la cara al tipo. Se llevaron a Brian a toda prisa y pudieron escapar del asunto, aunque tenia la paranoia de que lo detuvieran por el ataque.
Se le saco de la ciudad desde una fiesta en su cadillac azul con chofer cuando todo se quedo a oscuras.
Brian miraba por la ventanilla. Las luces estaban apagadas en todas partes, New York estaba a oscuras y la única iluminación procedía de la brillante luna llena y de los faros de los coches en el caos callejero. Brian empezó a inquietarse y echó mano a su inhalador para el asma y de sus pastillas. Todo el noroeste de Estados Unidos se había quedado sin fluido eléctrico, el famoso apagón del 65.
Le dieron una vela a Brian en el vestíbulo del Lincoln Square Motor Inn y subió los cinco pisos hasta su habitación. Apagón total. Paranoia. Algunas horas después, sintió que llamaban a su puerta: ¡Brian se quedó helado! Miró por la rendija con la cadena de la puerta echada. En la semioscuridad del pasillo vio el hosco semblante de Dylan.
“Hola, Brian –dijo Dylan con desdén-. ¿Qué marca tu contador de paranoia, en este momento?” Brian abrió la puerta. Dylan entró con Robbie Robertson, Bobby Neuwirth y otras personas. “Es una invasión de Marte –anunció Dylan-. ¡Vamos a tocar. Qué mejor momento que este, ahora que los hombrecitos verdes han aterrizado!” Estuvieron improvisando el resto de la tarde, fue la famosa “jam perdida” porque no había corriente eléctrica para grabarla, Brian tocó la armónica hasta que le sangraron los labios.
A la larga Dylan se cansó de la hiperparanoia de Brian. Una noche, muy tarde, en el Max’s Kansas City de Park Avenue South, incitado por Neuwirth, Dylan empezó a atacarlo. Le dijo a Brian que los stones eran una broma, le continuó diciendo que su voz era desastrosa, y que no le extrañaba que no lo dejasen cantar; para continuar diciéndole que era el eslabón débil de la jodida cadena. Dylan insistió en que Brian tenia una impresión equivocada, y que los Stones no tardarían en sacárselo de encima. Dylan y Neuwirth practicaban el juego de empujar a una persona hacia el precipicio –Dylan había embestido a Warhol unas noches antes en la discoteca Ondine-, pero todo era cruelmente cierto y Brian se rompió como un huevo. Comenzó a llorar, completamente borracho, lo que hizo que Dylan y Neuwirth se mofaran mas de él todavía al ver su estado emocional.
“Oh, vamos, Brian –le dijo finalmente Dylan arrastrando las palabras-. Sabes que siempre puedes venir a mi conjunto.”

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el codido Dy Lincci
« Respuesta #59 on: Junio 22, 2006, 08:25:09 pm »
¡Que hijo de puta!...pobre Brian, hasta Dylan le vino encima... :cry: