[Cymorill]

Southern trees bear strange fruit,
Blood on the leaves and blood at the root,
Black bodies swinging in the southern breeze,
Strange fruit hanging from the poplar trees.

Pastoral scene of the gallant south,
The bulging eyes and the twisted mouth,
Scent of magnolias, sweet and fresh,
Then the sudden smell of burning flesh.

Here is fruit for the crows to pluck,
For the rain to gather, for the wind to suck,
For the sun to rot, for the trees to drop,
Here is a strange and bitter crop.

i absolutly adore this song, in all its incarnations, from billie holiday and ella fitzgerald’s versions to the souixie and the banshees version.

[Cymorill]

my tears are like the quiet drift
of rain from some far off cloud
you the forgotten one catch them
from beneath your bed of earth

how i long to join you down below
so that i may shut out the world
with all its cruelty and indifference
but instead i send you my tears.

for A xx

[Cymorill]

katie melua actually, have gotten into some of her stuff recently, she has a lovely voice. :D

[Cymorill]

i have known the silence of the dead of night
and the silence of the sea
i have known the silence of a sleepless dream
and the silence of the moon
i have known the silence inside my mind
and the silence of the day
i have known the silence of words unsaid
and the silence yet to be.

[Cymorill]

I lost myself on a cool damp night
Gave myself in that misty light
Was hypnotized by a strange delight
Under a lilac tree
I made wine from the lilac tree
Put my heart in its recipe
It makes me see what I want to see
and be what I want to be

When I think more than I want to think
Do things I never should do
I drink much more than I ought to drink
Because It brings me back you…

Lilac wine is sweet and heady,
like my love
Lilac wine, I feel unsteady,
like my love
Listen to me…
I cannot see clearly
Isn’t that he coming to me nearly here?

Lilac wine is sweet and heady
where’s my love?
Lilac wine, I feel unsteady,
where’s my love?

Listen to me, why is everything so hazy?
Isn’t that he, or am I just going crazy, dear?
Lilac Wine, I feel unready
for my love…

[Cymorill]

Why are these women here dancing on their own?
Why is there this sadness in their eyes?
Why are the soldiers here
Their faces fixed like stone?
I can’t see what it is they despise

They’re dancing with the missing
They’re dancing with the dead
They dance with the invisible ones
Their anguish is unsaid

They’re dancing with their fathers
They’re dancing with their sons
They’re dancing with their husbands
They dance alone
They dance alone

It’s the only form of protest they’re allowed
I’ve seen their silent faces they scream so loud
If they were to speak these words they’d go missing too
Another woman on the torture table what else can they do

They’re dancing with the missing
They’re dancing with the dead
They dance with the invisible ones
Their anguish is unsaid

They’re dancing with their fathers
They’re dancing with their sons
They’re dancing with their husbands
They dance alone
They dance alone

One day we’ll dance on their graves
One day we’ll sing our freedom
One day we’ll laugh in our joy
And we’ll dance

One day we’ll dance on their graves
One day we’ll sing our freedom
One day we’ll laugh in our joy
And we’ll dance

Ellas danzan con los desaparecidos
Danzan con los muertos
Danzan con amores invisibles
Con silenciosa angustia
Danzan con sus padres
Con sus hijos
Con sus esposos
Ellas danzan solas
Danzan solas

Hey Mr. Pinochet
You’ve sown a bitter crop
It’s foreign money that supports you
One day the money’s going to stop

No wages for your torturer
No budget for your gun
Can you think of your own mother
Dancin’ with her invisible son

They’re dancing with the missing
They’re dancing with the dead
They dance with the invisible ones
Their anguish is unsaid

They’re dancing with their fathers
They’re dancing with their sons
They’re dancing with their husbands
They dance alone
They dance alone

[Cymorill]

tis a leonard cohen song, he is a wonderful poet in my opinion, and when set to music they are even better. :)

[Cymorill]

Love is a biochemical coc.ktail of dopamine, oxytocin, vasopressin, testosterone, and norepinephrine. :lol:

[Cymorill]

If it be your will
that I speak no more,
and my voice be still
as it was before,
I will speak no more,
I shall abide until
I am spoken for,
if it be your will.

If it be your will
that a voice be true,
from this broken hill
I will sing to you.
From this broken hill
all your praises they shall ring
if it be your will
to let me sing.

If it be your will,
if there is a choice,
let the rivers fill,
let the hills rejoice.
Let your mercy spill
on all these burning hearts in hell,
if it be your will
to make us well.

And draw us near
and bind us tight,
all your children here
in their rags of light;
in our rags of light,
all dressed to kill;
and end this night,
If it be your will.

[Cymorill]

the city streets now dim and quiet
echo with the empty cries of the wretched
those souls that wander, searching
for a corner filled with light

grubby faces peer through torn blankets
in cardboard city they are royalty
bedraggled monarchs with no throne
begging for some semblance of normality

they sing their national anthem
as they hold out their hands
yet there is no standing ovation
only nameless subjects that pass them by

they are majestic in their tragedy
these princes of the streets
watched over by the sentry in silver
as the rest of the city sleeps.

i know the last verse doesnt quite fit, but it didnt seem to sound right ending on the third verse, and i wasnt sure where to take it. :?

[Author]

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