John Cale: Cafe Shabu
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John Cale: Cafe Shabu
Welcome to the Caf Shabu. Permit me to introduce you to some of our regulars. Starting on my immediate left, ladies and gentlemen, here in Caf Shabu, you'll note a poet, a man of words by trade. And yes, that's a refugee from an unnamed political philosophy, come here to spread his message of joy and peace amongst us. Thank you very much sir. Over here, next to him we see a lady who has traded-in a lifestyle of the rich and famous for work with underprivileged and exceptional children which I am sure makes her very pleased with herself, ladies and gentlemen. Sitting next to her a man of letters and words and moods. A man who spent most of his life deceiving himself and now finds himself facing six years in rehabilitation prison and a death sentence on the outside. Sitting next to him on a banquette, a ballerina. She's had two grapes, a raisin, and a chicklet, and she's full. In fact, she's been stuffed for years. Next to her are two spinsters knitting their way in and out of various predicaments coloure
d by the excesses of their ancestors. And close by them, some surreal painter's brooding over the very over-emphasis of colour-violence. Violence on the blue end of the scale. Next to them, two off-duty detectives checking each other out. Next door to the sugarholics, see them shivering, see them staring into the distance, see them growing, oh, see them go comatose. Insulin please, Maitre D'! On my immediate right several politicians smiling lizard-like, see them assure themselves that their status is indeed quo.
Rip up the cheques said the Maitre D'. See if I care. I do this for the company. I've got no-one to trust any secrets to but myself. In the basement, in the vault, in the attic on the walls are the pictures I take in part-payment for my time. And the waitress reminds you that in the backroom bathed in red, glowing with the speed of light that reflects the demands of the living for the dead, are our angels, a host at your service to meet your every need. So order up, the waitress said. Our great caf serves everything.
d by the excesses of their ancestors. And close by them, some surreal painter's brooding over the very over-emphasis of colour-violence. Violence on the blue end of the scale. Next to them, two off-duty detectives checking each other out. Next door to the sugarholics, see them shivering, see them staring into the distance, see them growing, oh, see them go comatose. Insulin please, Maitre D'! On my immediate right several politicians smiling lizard-like, see them assure themselves that their status is indeed quo.
Rip up the cheques said the Maitre D'. See if I care. I do this for the company. I've got no-one to trust any secrets to but myself. In the basement, in the vault, in the attic on the walls are the pictures I take in part-payment for my time. And the waitress reminds you that in the backroom bathed in red, glowing with the speed of light that reflects the demands of the living for the dead, are our angels, a host at your service to meet your every need. So order up, the waitress said. Our great caf serves everything.
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John Cale: Cafe Shabu
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Inne teksty wykonawcy
John Cale: Cafe Shabu
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Maps Of The World
- John Cale
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Mr. Wilson
- John Cale
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Taking It All Away
- John Cale
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The Jeweller
- John Cale
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Dead Or Alive
- John Cale
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Pierwsza miłość
Genzie
„Czułem, że muszę zagadać To nie była łatwa sprawa Naszła mnie lekka obawa Nie ma co się zastanawiać Serce mi bije za szybko Tylko piszemy, widzę cię za szybką Kiedy znajdziemy się blisko Emocje”
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Mama (piosenka z 'Mam talent')
Bartek Wasilewski
„Bartek Wasilewski wykonał ten utwór w programie "Mam talent". Życie ma psychikę że odbiera czasem mowę twoje oczy tak piękne prawie jak karmelowe ja jestem twoim synem zawsze będę pamiętał ja”
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I że czuje się sam - feat. Michał Szczygieł (prod. Michał Głomski)
Julia Rocka
„Znowu dzwonił do mnie w nocy i wysyłał wiadomości, których mam już dosyć. (Oooo) Nie chcę dłużej tego znosić, nigdy nie zrozumiem o co jej w sumie tak naprawdę chodzi. (Oooo) To nie trwało za dłu”
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Chłopiec - feat. Patrycja Markowska, Sarius (prod. Zalucki)
Sebastian Fabijański
„Mamo zobacz jak twój syn już dziś nie płacze Bo jestem ponad, a błędy biorę na klatę Szukam Boga tam gdzie czeka tylko Diabeł By z dna wyciągać tych, co widzieli mój upadek Ale wstałem. Idę dalej,”
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Och i ach
Sylwia Grzeszczak
„Siadam, bo już się zaczął film Zobaczmy go do końca dziś Nasze historie z kilku lat O czym to jest? No, powiedz sam Ten dla dorosłych świat nas zwiódł Co chwilę chciał coś mieć na już Jakąś prze”
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Hometown
- Treaty Oak Revival
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Irish Goodbye
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Ode To Bourbon
- Treaty Oak Revival
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Can't Get Enough
- Jennifer Lopez
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No Vacancy
- Treaty Oak Revival
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In Between
- Treaty Oak Revival
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Missed Call
- Treaty Oak Revival
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nie po drodze
- tomash
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Have A Nice Day
- Treaty Oak Revival
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I'm The Worst
- Treaty Oak Revival
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