Rock-n-Roll |
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, , , . 27 , "". 33 - . , : . - , . , , . 37 . , . , . 37? - . : - , - . . 33 - , . 37 - , , . . , , . , . . "" "" . . . , , . , : , ... . , , . , , - , - , : , . (c) |
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*** , - . , . , , , . , - . , . , , . . . . - . . . , . . , - . , , . , , , , . , . , , ; , . . . , . , , . . , . , . , . ; , . . , . . (c) |
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The Show Must Go On
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| To be, or not to be: that is the question: Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep; No more; and by a sleep to say we end The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep; To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub; For in that sleep of death what dreams may come When we have shuffled off this mortal coil, Must give us pause: there's the respect That makes calamity of so long life; For who would bear the whips and scorns of time, The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely, The pangs of despised love, the law's delay, The insolence of office and the spurns That patient merit of the unworthy takes, When he himself might his quietus make With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear, To grunt and sweat under a weary life, But that the dread of something after death, The undiscover'd country from whose bourn No traveller returns, puzzles the will And makes us rather bear those ills we have Than fly to others that we know not of? Thus conscience does make cowards of us all; And thus the native hue of resolution Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought, And enterprises of great pith and moment With this regard their currents turn awry, And lose the name of action.-Soft you now! The fair Ophelia! Nymph, in thy orisons Be all my sins remember'd. (c) William Shekspeare |
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| Too Much Love Will Kill I'm just the pieces of the man I used to be Too many bitter tears are raining down on me I'm far away from home And I've been facing this alone For much too long I feel like no-one ever told the truth to me About growing up and what a struggle it would be In my tangled state of mind I've been looking back to find Where I went wrong Too much love will kill you If you can't make up your mind Torn between the lover And the love you leave behind You're headed for disaster 'cos you never read the signs Too much love will kill you Every time I'm just the shadow of the man I used to be And it seems like there's no way out of this for me I used to bring you sunshine Now all I ever do is bring you down How would it be if you were standing in my shoes Can't you see that it's impossible to choose No there's no making sense of it Every way I go I'm bound to lose Too much love will kill you Just as sure as none at all It'll drain the power that's in you Make you plead and scream and crawl And the pain will make you crazy You're the victim of your crime Too much love will kill you Every time Too much love will kill you It'll make your life a lie Yes, too much love will kill you And you won't understand why You'd give your life, you'd sell your soul But here it comes again Too much love will kill you In the end... In the end. | , , , . , , . , , . . , , . , . , . , , , . , , , . ... , , . , , . , , . , , . . . , . . , , , . , , . . , . |
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| Üle kõige on maailmal vaja Üht vaba last, üht vaba last, Kes midagi pole kuulnud heast ega kurjast, ei heast, ei kurjast, ega viitsi mõeldagi püüdjate paelust,! kuid püüdjail on vaja just vaba last. Põgene, vaba laps, see on ainus võimalus! Põgene, vaba laps! vii peitu maailma vabadus, kuni veel sa vähegi suudad, kuni veel sa vähegi loodad, vähegi hoolid Põgene, vaba laps! Vägivald armastab vabadust tahab ta võita ja vallutada, vägivald igatseb vabadust enda najale kallutada. Vägivald armastab vabadust, armastab vabadust. Üle kõige on kõigil vaja sind, vaba laps |
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Mina ei tea, kust ma rõõmu võtan? Pole mul maad, ei ole mul maja, pole mul rada, ei ole mul raja, pole mul raha - ja kõike on vaja, olen kui kurva aegade kaja, tumedade ööde tunnistaja - mina ei tea, kust ma rõõmu võtan? Mina ei tea, kuidas rõõmu jäätan? Kui mina kodumaa aasele tõttan, muredes, roidunud, kahevahel, ei ole mul lootust, ei usku, - kui ahel rõhub mind saatus kui surmalahel, kostab siis eesti laulukaja! Eesti laul - oh sa elustaja! - Mina ei tea, kuhu rõõmu siis jäätan?.. Juhan Liiv |
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