Jukebox

Petit frère n'a qu'un souhait devenir grand,
C'est pourquoi il s'obstine à jouer les sauvages dès l'âge de 10 ans.
Devenir adulte, avec les infos comme mentor,
C'est éclater les tronches de ceux qui ne sont pas d'accord.

A l'époque où grand frère était gamin,
On se tapait des délires sur Blanche-Neige et les 7 Nains.
Maintenant les nains ont giclé Blanche-Neige et tapent
Eclatent des types claquent dans Mortal Kombat.

A 13 ans, il aime déjà l'argent avide
Mais les poches sont arides, alors on fait le caïd.
Dans les boums, qui sont désormais des soirées, plus de sirop Teisseire.
Petit frère veut des bières.

Je ne crois pas que c'était volontaire, mais l'adulte c'est certain,
Indirectement a montré que faire le mal, c'est bien.
Demain ses cahiers seront pleins de ratures,
Petit frère fume des spliffs et casse des voitures.


Petit frère a déserté les terrains de jeux.
Il marche à peine et veut des bottes de sept lieues.
Petit frère veut grandir trop vite
Mais il a oublié que rien ne sert de courir, petit frère.


Petit frère rêve de bagnoles, de fringues, de tunes
De réputation de dur, pour tout ça il volerait la Lune.
Il collectionne les méfaits sans se soucier
Du mal qu'il fait, tout en demandant du respect.

Peu lui importe de quoi demain sera fait,
De donner à certains des raisons de mépriser son cadet.
Dans sa tête le rayonnement du tube cathodique
A étouffé les vibrations des tam-tam de l'Afrique.

Il n'a plus de cartable, il ne saurait quoi en faire.
Il ne joue plus aux billes, il veut jouer du revolver.
Petit frère a jeté ses soldats pour devenir un guerrier
Et penser au butin qu'il va amasser.


Petit frère a déserté les terrains de jeux.
Il marche à peine et veut des bottes de sept lieues.
Petit frère veut grandir trop vite
Mais il a oublié que rien ne sert de courir, petit frère.


Les journalistes font des modes, la violence à l'école existait déjà
De mon temps, les rackets, les bastons, les dégâts,
Les coups de batte dans les pare-brises des tires des instituteurs,
Embrouillés à coups de cutter.

Mais en parler au journal tous les soirs ça devient banal.
Ça s'imprime dans la rétine comme situation normale
Et si petit frère veut faire parler de lui
Il réitère ce qu'il a vu avant 8 heures et demie.

Merde, en 80 c'était des états de faits, mais là
Ces journalistes ont faits des états
Et je ne crois pas que petit frère soit pire qu'avant,
Juste surexposé à la pub, aux actes violents.

Pour les grands, les gosses est le meilleur citron,
La cible numéro 1, le terrain des produits de consommation,
Et pour être sûr qu'il s'en procure
Petit frère s'assure, flingue à la ceinture.

On sait ce que tu es quand on voit ce que tu possèdes.
Petit frère le sait et garde ce fait en tête.
L'argent lui ouvrirait les portes sur un ciel azur aussi
Facilement que ses tournevis ouvrent celle des voitures.

Le grand standing, c'est tout ce dont il a envie.
Ça passe mieux quand tu portes Giorgio Armani.
Soucieux du regard des gens,
Malgré son jeune âge, petit frère fume pour paraître plus grand.

Il voudrait prendre l'autoroute de la fortune
Et ne se rend pas compte qu'il pourrait y laisser des plumes.
Il vient à peine de sortir de son œuf
Et déjà petit frère veut être plus gros que le bœuf.


Petit frère a déserté les terrains de jeux.
Il marche à peine et veut des bottes de sept lieues.
Petit frère veut grandir trop vite
Mais il a oublié que rien ne sert de courir, petit frère.


Paroles IAM - Petit Frère


Effectivement, c'est la misère et le milieu dans lequel elle est cultivée qui est la source de nombreux problêmes, pas la provenance des gens.

Et je propose ici un grande musique des "Guns And Roses" que nous connaissons tous. Civil War, de leur album Use Your Illusion (CD1). Si vous pouvez l'écouter faites le, elle en vaut vraiment la peine, et les paroles sont pleines de sens et de vérité...


"What we've got here is failure to communicate.
Some men you just can't reach...
So, you get what we had here last week,
which is the way he wants it!
Well, he gets it!
N' I don't like it any more than you men." *

Look at your young men fighting
Look at your women crying
Look at your young men dying
The way they've always done before

Look at the hate we're breeding
Look at the fear we're feeding
Look at the lives we're leading
The way we've always done before

My hands are tied
The billions shift from side to side
And the wars go on with brainwashed pride
For the love of God and our human rights
And all these things are swept aside
By bloody hands time can't deny
And are washed away by your genocide
And history hides the lies of our civil wars

D'you wear a black armband
When they shot the man
Who said "Peace could last forever"
And in my first memories
They shot Kennedy
I went numb when I learned to see
So I never fell for Vietnam
We got the wall of D.C. to remind us all
That you can't trust freedom
When it's not in your hands
When everybody's fightin'
For their promised land

And
I don't need your civil war
It feeds the rich while it buries the poor
Your power hungry sellin' soldiers
In a human grocery store
Ain't that fresh
I don't need your civil war

Look at the shoes your filling
Look at the blood we're spilling
Look at the world we're killing
The way we've always done before
Look in the doubt we've wallowed
Look at the leaders we've followed
Look at the lies we've swallowed
And I don't want to hear no more

My hands are tied
For all I've seen has changed my mind
But still the wars go on as the years go by
With no love of God or human rights
'Cause all these dreams are swept aside
By bloody hands of the hypnotized
Who carry the cross of homicide
And history bears the scars of our civil wars

"We practice selective annihilation of mayors
And government officials
For example to create a vacuum
Then we fill that vacuum
As popular war advances
Peace is closer" **

I don't need your civil war
It feeds the rich while it buries the poor
Your power hungry sellin' soldiers
In a human grocery store
Ain't that fresh
And I don't need your civil war
I don't need your civil war
I don't need your civil war
Your power hungry sellin' soldiers
In a human grocery store
Ain't that fresh
I don't need your civil war
I don't need one more war

I don't need one more war
Whaz so civil 'bout war anyway

Orgasmatron [Motorhead] lyrics


I Am The One, Orgasmatron, The Outstretched Grasping Hand
My Image Is Of Agony, My Servants Rape The Land
Obsequious And Arrogant, Clandestine And Vain
Two Thousand Years Of Misery, Of Torture In My Name
Hypocrisy Made Paramount, Paranoia The Law
My Name Is Called Religion, Sadistic, Sacred Whore.

I Twist The Truth, I Rule The World, My Crown Is Called Deceit
I Am The Emperor Of Lies, You Grovel At My Feet
I Rob You And I Slaughter You, Your Downfall Is My Gain
And Still You Play The Sycophant And Revel In You Pain
And All My Promises Are Lies, All My Love Is Hate
I Am The Politician, And I Decide Your Fate

I March Before A Martyred World, An Army For The Fight
I Speak Of Great Heroic Days, Of Victory And Might
I Hold A Banner Drenched In Blood, I Urge You To Be Brave
I Lead You To Your Destiny, I Lead You To Your Grave
Your Bones Will Build My Palaces, Your Eyes Will Stud My Crown
For I Am Mars, The God Of War, And I Will Cut You Down.

End Of The Line

Welcome to the circus
Leave your brain outside
Sit back - relax
As we feed you lies

Spoon fed stimulation
Glittering fashion fascination
You are lost in the game
Media corruption

You'll be amused
By the things we do to you
But in the bitter end
The clown is you

End of the line
You sold your soul
For a better life
You are better off dead

You had one life
You had one shot
You blew it
And you knew it
The rot sets in
No self control
At the end of the line
You play the fool

The Magnificent Seven the clash

Ring! Ring! It's 7:00 A.M.!
Move y'self to go again
Cold water in the face
Brings you back to this awful place
Knuckle merchants and you bankers, too
Must get up an' learn those rules
Weather man and the crazy chief
One says sun and one says sleet
A.M., the F.M. the P.M. too
Churning out that boogaloo
Gets you up and gets you out
But how long can you keep it up?
Gimme Honda, Gimme Sony
So cheap and real phony
Hong Kong dollars and Indian cents
English pounds and Eskimo pence

You lot! What?
Don't stop! Give it all you got!
You lot! What?
Don't stop! Yeah!

Working for a rise, better my station
Take my baby to sophistication
She's seen the ads, she thinks it's nice
Better work hard - I seen the price
Never mind that it's time for the bus
We got to work - an' you're one of us
Clocks go slow in a place of work
Minutes drag and the hours jerk

"When can I tell 'em wot I do?
In a second, maaan...oright Chuck!"

Wave bub-bub-bub-bye to the boss
It's our profit, it's his loss
But anyway lunch bells ring
Take one hour and do your thanng!
Cheeesboiger!

What do we have for entertainment?
Cops kickin' Gypsies on the pavement
Now the news - snap to attention!
The lunar landing of the dentist convention
Italian mobster shoots a lobster
Seafood restaurant gets out of hand
A car in the fridge
Or a fridge in the car?
Like cowboys do - in T.V. land

You lot! What? Don't stop. Huh?

So get back to work an' sweat some more
The sun will sink an' we'll get out the door
It's no good for man to work in cages
Hits the town, he drinks his wages
You're frettin', you're sweatin'
But did you notice you ain't gettin'?
Don't you ever stop long enough to start?
To take your car outta that gear
Don't you ever stop long enough to start?
To get your car outta that gear
Karlo Marx and Fredrich Engels
Came to the checkout at the 7-11
Marx was skint - but he had sense
Engels lent him the necessary pence

What have we got? Yeh-o, magnificence!!

Luther King and Mahatma Gandhi
Went to the park to check on the game
But they was murdered by the other team
Who went on to win 50-nil
You can be true, you can be false
You be given the same reward
Socrates and Milhous Nixon
Both went the same way - through the kitchen
Plato the Greek or Rin Tin Tin
Who's more famous to the billion millions?
News Flash: Vacuum Cleaner Sucks Up Budgie
Oooohh...bub-bye

Magnificence!!

FUCKING LONG, INNIT?