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Старый 30.01.2010, 21:38
serg serg вне форума
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Регистрация: 06.02.2009
Сообщения: 256
По умолчанию песенка

В мире накопилось огромное кол-во музыкальных произведений. Но исторически сложилось так, что тексты песен - треш и ацкая содомия.
Бывают исключения, например песенка Flibberty Jib от Devid de Laski (Lord Runningclam)
http://www.almostcool.org/mr/684/

Песенка весьма этологична, про настоящих альф.
Недавно удалось нарыть текст:

There was this stranger who came into our town.
He was tall; and had a dark look about him; and a
special brilliance was in his eyes. When he looked
at us, it was the feeling that he could see right
down to the bottom. We may have been mistaken in
this, but at the time no questions were asked. The
questions always come later. All we cared about was
the mystery we sensed in this stranger, and we waited
to see what would happen.

One evening, that was different from any other, he got
us all together in the big auditorium. He stood there
on the huge stage. The only light was on him and
we waited in the dark. Then out of his tallness
came the chanting; first as a whisper we could hardly
hear: "The flibberty jib bom the bippity bop; the
flibberty jib bom the bippity bop." It didn't make
any sense. We were caught up in something we didn't
understand. He had trapped us without our knowing it.
Possibly it was his manner. And we came alive to him
as he slowly moved us with his chant through the land
of hush, into insistent savage throbbing crescendos of
ecstasy. As if it were the only thing we could do, we
started to chant with him, "The flibberty jib bom the
bippity bop; the flibberty jib bom the bippity bop."
And he was up on the high stage laughing with all his
might, saying, "Yes, yes, yes."

But there were those among us who were jealous of his
powers. Who felt they should be in the center of the
stage with the light shining on them. They were against
our hero and the chanting and our going to be with him
every free moment. And so little by little a little
later, these critics set to work to make nonsense out
of the sense of what we were doing; and they succeeded.
They destroyed our hero's faith in himself. He didn't
have it any more. After a few disappointing times in
the big auditorium, the light gone out of him, we all
stopped going. And the man who had once seemed so tall
and who now seemed so much smaller, left our town,
saying, "No, no, no."

We lived through the boredom of the time that followed,
telling each other pale stories of what once was and
what might have been if. We lived on histories and
hopes. We did this, until the miracle we never thought
would happen again happened. Another stranger came into
our town, and he too was tall and dark and had eyes that
could look right down into the bottom of you. And he
got us all together in the big auditorium, and with the
light on him (we were in the dark), he chanted, "The
flibberty jib bom the bippity bop; the flibberty jib
bom the bippity bop." And we joined in and the magic
was in us, and he was laughing and all his might was
with him and he was shouting, "Yes, yes, yes!"

But there were those among us who were jealous, and
so forth, you know, you know what they did. Little
by little a little later, they put us back on the
narrow path. This is the way things have been our
town for as long as anyone cares to remember.

By the way, how are things in your town?

Последний раз редактировалось serg, 30.01.2010 в 21:46.
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