12 janvier 2021

In the Garage


Why did you go betray me?
You're such a whore
I stay at home drinking
You're such a whore

Why did you go betray me?
You're such a whore
I stay at home drinking
You're such a whore

Why did you go betray me?
You got no soul
You left me in the valley
This ain't my whore

Whore
Whore
Whore
Whore

This ain't my Whore
She ain't yours
Now

Why did you go betray me?
You're such a whore
I stay at home drinking
You're such a whore
Why did you go betray me?
You got no soul
You left me in the valley
This ain't my whore

Whore
Whore
Whore
Whore

This ain't my
Whore
She ain't yours
Now

This ain't my
Whore
She ain't yours
Now

Whore - Fidlar

8 janvier 2021

“La nostalgie, c'est comme les coups de soleil : ça fait pas mal pendant, ça fait mal le soir.”


Operator
Number please
It's been so many years
Will she remember
My old voice
While I fight the tears
Hello, hello there, is this Martha, this is old Tom Frost
And I am calling long distance
Don't worry about the cost
It's been forty years or more, now Martha please recall
Meet me out for coffee
Where we'll talk about it all and

Those were the days of roses
Of poetry and prose
And Martha all I had was you and all you had was me
There was no tomorrows
We packed away our sorrows and we saved them for a rainy day

And I feel so much older now
And you're much older too
How's your husband
And how's your kids, you know that I got married too
Lucky that you found someone to make you feel secure
Cause we were all so young and foolish Now we are mature and

Those were the days of roses Of poetry and prose
And Martha all I had was you and all you had was me
There was no tomorrows We packed away our sorrows and we saved them for a rainy day

And I was always
So impulsive
I guess that I still am
And all that really mattered then
Was that I was a man
I guess that our being together was never meant to be
And Martha
Martha
I love you can't you see? And

Those were the days of roses
Poetry and prose and Martha all I had was you and all you had was me
There was no tomorrows
We'd packed away our sorrows and we saved them for a rainy day

And I remember
Quiet evenings
Trembling close to you

Martha - Tom Waits