Bij welke muziek hou jij het niet droog?
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@SanMiquelik kom uit Boerhaavewijk. De Meerwijkers... ja.
Ruzies om de Hazenberg. Ik ken de verhalen. Zat niet in die wereld. Weet dat het er was.
16 uur geleden zei SanMiquel:Maar denk dat mijn generatie zo rond 50 een veel groter probleem heeft met drank dan de jongere generatie (godzijdank).
Ik lees dit nu pas.
San, volgens mij vergeet je nu dat er ook generaties voor jou zijn.
Ik kom uit een eerdere periode, mijn ouders uit nog een eerdere periode.
Denk hier maar eens goed over na.
En ook over wir haben das et cetera ...
Uit de oude doos:
En 30 jaar later Anubhava / Peter Makena.
"Sing For The Moment"
Whose worst fear is a child with dyed hair and who likes earrings
Like whatever they say has no bearing, it's so scary in a house that allows no swearing
To see him walking around with his headphones blaring
Alone in his own zone, cold and he don't care
He's a problem child
What bothers him all comes out, when he talks about
His fuckin' dad walkin' out
'Cause he just hates him so bad that he blocks him out
If he ever saw him again he'd probably knock him out
His thoughts are whacked, he's mad so he's talkin' back
Talkin' black, brainwashed from rock and rap
He sags his pants, do-rags and a stocking cap
His step-father hit him, so he socked him back, and broke his nose
His house is a broken home, there's no control, he just let's his emotions go...
(Come on!) Sing with me (Sing!), sing for the year (Sing it!)
Sing for the laughter and sing for the tear (Come on!)
Sing it with me, it's just for today
Maybe tomorrow the good Lord will take you away
Entertainment is changin', intertwinin' with gangsters
In the land of the killers, a sinner's mind is a sanctum
Holy or unholy, only have one homie
Only this gun, lonely 'cause don't anyone know me
Yet everybody just feels like they can relate, I guess words are a motherfucker they can be great
Or they can degrade, or even worse they can teach hate
It's like these kids hang on every single statement we make
Like they worship us, plus all the stores ship us platinum
Now how the fuck did this metamorphosis happen
From standin' on corners and porches just rappin'
To havin' a fortune, no more kissin' ass
But then these critics crucify you, journalists try to burn you
Fans turn on you, attorneys all want a turn at you
To get their hands on every dime you have, they want you to lose your mind every time you mad
So they can try to make you out to look like a loose cannon
Any dispute won't hesitate to produce handguns
That's why these prosecutors wanna convict me, strictly just to get me off of these streets quickly
But all they kids be listenin' to me religiously, so I'm signin' CDs while police fingerprint me
They're for the judge's daughter but his grudge is against me
If I'm such a fuckin' menace, this shit doesn't make sense Pete
It's all political, if my music is literal, and I'm a criminal how the fuck can I raise a little girl
I couldn't, I wouldn't be fit to, you're full of shit too, Guerrera, that was a fist that hit you...
(Come on!) Sing with me (Sing!), sing for the year (Sing it!)
Sing for the laughter and sing for the tear (Sing that shit!)
Sing it with me, it's just for today
Maybe tomorrow the good Lord will take you away
They say music can alter moods and talk to you
Well can it load a gun up for you, and cock it too
Well if it can, then the next time you assault a dude
Just tell the judge it was my fault and I'll get sued
See what these kids do is hear about us totin' pistols
And they want to get one 'cause they think the shit's cool
Not knowin' we really just protectin' ourselves, we entertainers
Of course the shit's affectin' our sales, you ignoramus
But music is reflection of self, we just explain it, and then we get our checks in the mail
It's fucked up ain't it
How we can come from practically nothing to being able to have any fuckin' thing that we wanted
That's why we sing for these kids, who don't have a thing
Except for a dream, and a fuckin' rap magazine
Who post pin-up pictures on their walls all day long
Idolize their favorite rappers and know all their songs
Or for anyone who's ever been through shit in their lives
Till they sit and they cry at night wishin' they'd die
Till they throw on a rap record and they sit, and they vibe
We're nothin' to you but we're the fuckin' shit in their eyes
That's why we seize the moment try to freeze it and own it, squeeze it and hold it
'Cause we consider these minutes golden
And maybe they'll admit it when we're gone
Just let our spirits live on, through our lyrics that you hear in our songs and we can...
Sing with me (Sing!), sing for the year (Sing it!)
Sing for the laughter and sing for the tear (Come on!)
Sing it with me, it's just for today
Maybe tomorrow the good Lord will take you away
Sing with me (Sing!), sing for the year (Sing it!)
Sing for the laughter and sing for the tear (Come on!)
Sing it with me, it's just for today
Maybe tomorrow the good Lord will take you away
Deze song symboliseert voort mij heel veel.
Te ingewikkeld om allemaal uit te leggen, dat heeft ook geen enkele zin.
Voor iemand anders kan dit nummer weer een ander betekenis hebben.
Of helemaal geen enkele betekenis.
No problem.
l
Nou heeft Stevie Wonder zo ontzettend veel moois gemaakt wat niet kitsch is:
Nog eentje en dan is de ochtend helemaal goed. Als je t nou over niet droog kunnen houden hebt... met zo'n prachtig deinend achtergrondkoortje erbij...
15 uur geleden zei bumperjim:Nog eentje en dan is de ochtend helemaal goed. Als je t nou over niet droog kunnen houden hebt... met zo'n prachtig deinend achtergrondkoortje erbij...
Ik zal je het achtergrond verhaal bij het horen van dit Stevie Wonder album maar besparen.
Hoeveel dagen heeft kerst? Dat ga ik mij dan weer afvragen bij het zien van dit filmpje.
Als ik het even niet meer zie zitten draai ik dit nummer, een van mijn favorieten.
Vanwege de cirkels, maar iedere keer weer net even anders, als je goed luistert.
Heb ik ook laten draaien tijdens de crematie van mijn vader, maar dan in een rustiger versie,
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