Woody Guthrie: Heaven
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Woody Guthrie: Heaven
It's after my work tired and weary, I lay down to rest my eyes,
I see this world change in a whirlwind and heaven flies down from the skies;
I see rising up from my wreckage, cities and mansions so bright
I see my friends eyes and their faces lit up with a bright shining light.
I walk through the sunshiny factory where dresses and shirts are both clean;
A brother and sister are singing at work as they watch all the wheels;
No smudge clouds of smoke hid my valley, my sight it is clear for miles;
The mountains are all dancing happy, the trees are waving me smiles.
There are no sickly faces about me, the children are healthy and gay;
Not one homeless soul is around me, not lost, nor cripple, nor lame;
The street laid in finest of plastics, the atom is laboring as well;
No airships are crashing here by me, no dead ones in burning hotels.
No fast cars collide nor turn over, no death curve along my new road;
No cheaters, no gamblers, no robbers, no graveyard, no prisons, no jails;
No gasbombs, no brass knucks, no billies, no battles tween worker and boss;
No patrolman, no officer, policeman, to ride into crowds on his horse.
The last labor battles are ended, they're shown on the screen and the page;
The workhand is happy at building his world like the play on his stage;
Profiteers are gone and forgotten, except in my history and book,
My friends all have jobs here in heaven and sing as I stand here and look.
I am sawing the finest made fiddle, I am touching the richest skin drum;
I am blowing the sweetest of woodwinds and blowing the deepest of horns;
I dance to my music I'm making, and the world joins in with my dance;
Science and hope cures the fevers, not one grain is blowing by chance.
Every hand works in hand with the other, and not for power nor greed;
Every hand works to its fullest ability and is paid in its deepest of need;
No cancer, no tuberculosis, no paralysis nor asylums are here
No bowery, nor skid row of homeless, no eye that is blinded by tears.
If you can only see with me this vision of heaven I dreamed,
Then you can take new faith in working with comrades and friends
And when I woke up from my sleeping and looked down my raggedy street,
I go back to work with my vision and I drink down the bitter and sweet.
I know as you hear such a dream, friend, you will not pass it along;
I do not expect you to sing it as I do, nor to sing such a curious song;
I wrote down this song for my own self, and sing it now to my own soul,
But if you'll sing songs of your dreamings, then you will reap treasures untold.
I see this world change in a whirlwind and heaven flies down from the skies;
I see rising up from my wreckage, cities and mansions so bright
I see my friends eyes and their faces lit up with a bright shining light.
I walk through the sunshiny factory where dresses and shirts are both clean;
A brother and sister are singing at work as they watch all the wheels;
No smudge clouds of smoke hid my valley, my sight it is clear for miles;
The mountains are all dancing happy, the trees are waving me smiles.
There are no sickly faces about me, the children are healthy and gay;
Not one homeless soul is around me, not lost, nor cripple, nor lame;
The street laid in finest of plastics, the atom is laboring as well;
No airships are crashing here by me, no dead ones in burning hotels.
No fast cars collide nor turn over, no death curve along my new road;
No cheaters, no gamblers, no robbers, no graveyard, no prisons, no jails;
No gasbombs, no brass knucks, no billies, no battles tween worker and boss;
No patrolman, no officer, policeman, to ride into crowds on his horse.
The last labor battles are ended, they're shown on the screen and the page;
The workhand is happy at building his world like the play on his stage;
Profiteers are gone and forgotten, except in my history and book,
My friends all have jobs here in heaven and sing as I stand here and look.
I am sawing the finest made fiddle, I am touching the richest skin drum;
I am blowing the sweetest of woodwinds and blowing the deepest of horns;
I dance to my music I'm making, and the world joins in with my dance;
Science and hope cures the fevers, not one grain is blowing by chance.
Every hand works in hand with the other, and not for power nor greed;
Every hand works to its fullest ability and is paid in its deepest of need;
No cancer, no tuberculosis, no paralysis nor asylums are here
No bowery, nor skid row of homeless, no eye that is blinded by tears.
If you can only see with me this vision of heaven I dreamed,
Then you can take new faith in working with comrades and friends
And when I woke up from my sleeping and looked down my raggedy street,
I go back to work with my vision and I drink down the bitter and sweet.
I know as you hear such a dream, friend, you will not pass it along;
I do not expect you to sing it as I do, nor to sing such a curious song;
I wrote down this song for my own self, and sing it now to my own soul,
But if you'll sing songs of your dreamings, then you will reap treasures untold.
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Woody Guthrie: Heaven
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Miłość jest ślepa
Sanah
„Kochanie mnie to jak pory roku Po miesiącach mroku Słońce świeci zza chmur Kochanie mnie to poza do skoku Nad przepaścią głęboką Potem już tylko w dół Kochanie mnie jak zima w pergoli Mró”
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Genziara
Genzie
„mam pewność siebie, to praca nie dar oni mi piszą, że ja to mam fart przeżyłam tsunami, hejtu tyle fal nie mogłam już więcej dać, z siebie wiem, wiem najlepiej co na mnie stać jak gwiazda na nieb”
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100 BPM - feat. Bletka
Kizo
„Nad miastem unosi się dym Dziś każdy porusza się w tańcu I serce wybija nam rytm Nie braknie nam promieni słońca Gdy mieni się golden hour Którego nie dotykasz końca Chce z Tobą tańczyć jak nikt”
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Nie mówiła nic
EMO
„Znowu siedzę z sobą całkiem sam a jedno co jest pewne chciałem to mam o tobie trudno jest zapomnieć ot tak nie mówiła nic chciała z tobą być lubiła solo tańczyć aż po świt kochałem ją jak nik”
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Pilnie oddam gruz
Daj To Głośniej
„Miałeś wyglądać jak Dicaprio miałam się wozić Twoim cabrio w basenie sączyć Aperole a Ty wyglądasz tak że ja, że ja Cię nie chcę Miałeś być jak z bajki pantofle, a nie stare najki gdzie mogę ”
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