Madflyhalf's Blog



NE TRAVAILLEZ JAMAIS

Living is easy with eyes closed
Misunderstanding all you see

Di fronte alle avversità della vita, chi ne sa di calcio dice "la palla è rotonda". Chi ne sa di rugby s’incazza!



Uno che non ride mai, non è una persona seria
Fryderyk Chopin

Wednesday, July 29, 2009

Il Boss...

...a 1 anno e un mese di distanza son tornato dal Boss... perché quello che ti dà lui, con 2-3h di concerto, ora come ora, non te le dà nessuno!
Quando poi non c'ha la Patty al seguito, si sente autorizzato a fare di tutto!!! :D

Ha cominciato così... :D



Poi verso la fine ci ha anche regalato anche questa...


E Dancing in the dark!



Ho sperato in Thunder Road o This hard land, ma niente... vabbè, un motivo in più per andare anche al prossimo concerto!

Ma io la metto qui!! :D




Hey there mister can you tell me
What happened to the seeds I've sown
Can you give me a reason, sir, as to why they've never grown
They've just blown around from town to town
Back out on these fields
Where they fall from my hand
Back into the dirt of this hard land

Well me and my sister
From Germantown we did ride
We made our bed, sir
From the rock on the mountainside
We been blowin' around from town to town
Lookin' for a place to stand
Where the sun burst through the clouds and fall like a circle
A circle of fire down on this hard land

Now even the rain it don't come 'round
Don't come 'round here no more
And the only sound at night's the wind
Slammin' the back porch door
Yeah it stirs you up like it wants to blow you down
Twistin' and churnin' up the sand
Leavin' all them scarecrows lyin' facedown
In the dirt of this hard land

From a building up on the hill
I can hear a tape deck blastin' "Home on the Range"
I can hear them Bar-M choppers
Sweepin' low across the plains
It's me and you, Frank, we're lookin' for lost cattle
Our hooves twistin' and churnin' up the sand
We're ridin' in the whirlwind searchin' for lost treasure
Way down south of the Rio Grande
We're ridin' 'cross that river in the moonlight
Up onto the banks of this hard land

Hey, Frank, won't you pack your bags
And meet me tonight down at Liberty Hall
Just one kiss from you, my brother
And we'll ride until we fall
Well sleep in the fields
We'll sleep by the rivers
And in the morning we'll make a plan
Well if you can't make it stay hard, stay hungry, stay alive if you can
And meet me in a dream of this hard land

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