jeudi 22 décembre 2016

The Buma True Story Episode 26 - Something Must Break

"Two ways to choose,
On a razor's edge,
Remain behind,
Go straight ahead

Room full of people, room for just one,
If I can't break out now, the time just won't come"






mardi 6 décembre 2016

The Buma True Story - episode 25: Stop breathin'

"Got struck by the first volley of the war in the courts
Never held my service
Send 'em a wire, give 'em my best, this ammunition never rests
No one serves coffee, no one wakes up

Stop breathin', stop breathin'
Breathin' for me now
Write it on a postcard
Dad, they broke me, dad, they broke me"








samedi 19 novembre 2016

The Buma True Story Episode 24 : Plans


"I can't filter what I've lost, see my face and see the cost,
All the good that just got tossed, and I keep kneeling.
And I don't know what to bring, I get pissed at everything
I need you to see me sing, keep me believing

I got nothing left to be... do you have some plans for me?
I got nothing left to be... do you have some plans for me?"







mercredi 12 octobre 2016

The Buma True Story - Episode 23 : A Painful Reminder

"A picture's worth a thousands words
Even those left unsaid
Those best left unsaid
Now he walks the halls alone
But it is for the better
And he vowed that never again
Would he open his heart
No, never again

And to serve as a reminder
He painted her a picture
A painful reminder
And he keeps it in his binder
His painful reminder"











lundi 19 septembre 2016

The Buma True Story Episode 22 : Suedehead


"Why do you come here
When you know it makes things hard for me?
When you know, oh, why do you come?
You had to sneak into my room
Just to read my diary
"It was just to see, just to see..."
All the things you knew I'd written about you
So many illustrations... but
I'm so very sickened
Oh, I'm so sickened now."










lundi 5 septembre 2016

The Buma True Story Episode 21 : Les Ombres du Soir

"Elle dort au milieu des serpents
Sous la tonnelle près des marais 
Les yeux au-delà des diamants 
Qu'elle a incrustés dans ses plaies 
Elle dit c'est pas St Augustin 
Qui joue du violon dans les bois 
Et Paginini encore moins 
Cela semble étrange mais je la crois 
J'ai rien entendu par ici 
Depuis des siècles et ma mémoire 
Au fil des brouillards et des nuits 
Se perd dans les ombres du soir"