Cried when she should and she laughed when she could
Here's to the man with his face in the mud
And an overcast play just taken away
From the lover's in love at the centre of stage yeah

Loving is fine if you have plenty of time
For walking on stilts at the edge of your mind
Loving is good if your dick's made of wood
And the dick left inside only half understood her

Damien Rice/The Profssor & La fille Danse

-------------------------

Yesterday you asked me
To write you a pleasant song
I'll do my best now
But you've been gone for so long

The window's open now
And the winter settles in
We'll call it Christmas
When the adverts begin

I love your depression
And I love your double chin
I love most everything
You bring to this offering

Damien Rice/ The Animals were Gone

Twenty-five years and my life is still
Trying to get up that great big hill of hope
For a destination

Photoraph by Pendar Nabipour

And so I cry sometimes
When I'm lying bed
Just to get it all out
What's in my head
And I, I am feeling a little peculiar

And so I wake in the morning
And I step outside
And I take a deep breath and I get real high
And I scream from the top of my lungs
What's going on?

Twenty-five years and my life is still
Trying to get  up that great big hill of hope
for a destination

What's Up/4 Non Blondes

نیکول فریدنی هم درگذشت...

Painting by Andy Warhol

When i'm watchin' my tv
And that man comes on to tell me
How white my shirts can be
But he can't be a man 'cause he doesn't smoke
The same cigarrettes as me
I can't get no, oh no no no
Hey hey hey, that's what i say

I can't get no satisfaction
I can't get no girl reaction
'cause i try and i try and i try and i try
I can't get no, i can't get no 
Mick Jagger/ I can't get no satisfaction

در بيداري خواب مي‌بينم دوستانم را از دست داده‌ام، مادربزرگم مرده است و من بي‌كس‌ترين آدم روي زمين شده‌ام. سكوت برف و شب بر اندوه عزاداري‌هايم مي‌افزايد. دلم مي‌خواهد تا صبح نوحه‌خواني كنم بي آن‌كه كسي صدايم را بشنود تا مبادا قطعه اشكي بريزد... صبح كه بيدار شدم خواب مي‌بينم مردي هستم كه زنم دو روز پيش بي‌آن‌كه چيزي بگويد تركم كرده است. براي مرد تنهايي كه هستم، براي شب‌هاي تخت دونفره‌اي كه تنها بر روي آن مي‌خوابم آرام آرام اشك مي‌ريزم. وقتي خوابم برد مادرم مي‌شوم و از غصه‌ي فرزندانم رفته رفته تحليل مي‌روم، آن‌قدر كوچك مي‌شوم كه خودم را باز مي‌يابم و مي‌بينم با او لا‌اقل داراي يك وجه اشتراك هستم و آن اين‌كه هيچ‌كدام نمي‌دانيم كدام‌يك براي ديگري بيشتر غصه بخوريم... شب مي‌خوابيم و صبح بي‌آن‌كه به پاسخي رسيده باشيم در سكوت، صبحانه‌ي روزي را مي‌خوريم كه در بيداري آن خواب مي‌بينيم هر دو مرده‌ايم.