MAQUINA ENFERNALA

by Lou Seriol

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1.
03:08
BOJA Auça las jambas encara Boja i pès, la testa Beica que tot boja Nea, lo son es aiga... Pròva encara se sies bòn pròva encara se sies bòn... Sento la tia fòrça sento lo bas que possa auta la pors s'la testa subia valancha biancha Se sies bòn sautar eme nos, se sies bòn sautar eme nos.... Boja laissa-te anar Boja escota lo bas Boja laissa-te anar Boja taca vibrar Tomba lo quiar s'la tera auta vai la valòsca brasa dedins la testa brusa aquesta festa Tiro fòra lòn que as tiro fòra lòn que sas Sentes lòn que t'arriba vibra la lenga chauda escota l'armòni eschauda ÒC es lo còr que boja... Bó las mans al paradis mon enfern es pas destis ---------------------------------- MOVE Lift up your legs again Move your feet and head look, everything is moving swim, the sound is water try again, if you can try again, if you can I feel your strength I feel the bass pumping the dust is high on our head whistle, white avalanche jump with us, if you can jump with us, if you can Move, let yourself go Move, listen to the bass Move, let yourself go Move, start quivering Light falls down on earth ash particles fly high embers in our head this party is burning take out all you have take out all you know Feel what’s happening your warm tongue is quivering listen: the accordion is warming you up OC is our heart moving with our hands up to Heaven my Hell is not extinguished yet
2.
Maquina Enfernala La Maquina Enfernala a ben lo morre plat de pòliç de mesura e lo son coma vòs tu de Maquinas enfernalas i n’a tuchi cantons a l'òste en la gleisa e beleu dins ta maison la Maquina enfernala te parla dau dedins te dis lòn que te chal faire de la sera au matin la Maquina enfernala es pas una mia envencion de luns a la diamenja a vos crema i neurons En la Maquina enfernala i tròbes en pauc de tot de filhas patanuas , lo Papa, de balon de milions a ganhar, des mòtos e des cartoons e dins tot aquest flan ont es l'informacion? De sens plen de plastica de labres au silicon de monde sus a un isla, de longs e des chichons sarrats dins la meison a faire i porcons e tuchi aqui denant a beicar la trasmission... Fai-te pas comandar dau poder destissa lo bordel d'la maquina enfernala fai-te pas comandar dau poder avisca lo cervel e fai brusar ta flama Fai-te pas comandar dau poder destisa lo bordel d'la maquina enfernala fai-te pas comandar dau poder avisca lo cervel La Maquina enfernala s’i gaches ben dedins es vueida coma botas a la fin dau tiu festin lor dion che siem libres "es tot denant de vos!" (si lo monde es parier mi vau viure sus Pluton!) es coma lo serpent denant lo son de la fluta la maquina enfernala pinta d'òr tot lòn que tocha e se decò vosautres la pensetz coma mi fasem petar la maquina a lo son de nòstre rindim ------------------------------------------------------ Infernal machine Infernal machine has flat face inches for measurement and sound as you like there are infernal machines everywhere at the bar, in the church, even in your own house infernal machine talks to you from the inside tells you what to do from dusk til dawn infernal machine is not something I made out monday to sunday, it burns your brain cells you can find almost anything in the infernal machine naked girls, the pope, soccer millions to win, bikes and cartoons So, in all this mess where is infomation? Plastic tits and silicon lips people on an island, tall or fat guys. Locked in “a house” being naughty and everybody follows the show.. Rit. Don't let the power rule over you stop the noise of the infernal machine don't let the power rule over you turn on the brain and light your own flame don't let the power rule over you stop the noise of the infernal machine don't let the power rule over you turn on the brain If you look inside the infernal machine it's empty like bottles when a party ends they say we're free “everything at your disposal!” (if this is the world, I'm going to live on Pluto!) it's like the serpent at the sound of the flute everything the infernal machine touches it paints gold and if you think like me too let's blow the infernal machine at the sound of our riddim
3.
04:16
FREIT Es escur e freit en lo miu pais fornel avisc en lo ciel gris paraulas escrichas, papier jaun figura niera sul morre bianc silenci vueit dai prats jalats e vòl de jais sus la Curmà tu sies partit, te sies levat, sença salut tu m'as laissat nooooo m'agrada pas istar ici solet, ici a pensar nooooo un limbe nier que me fai paur aqui, m'agrada pas Fatigo encara a te pensar, aqui content coma meinàa chançon trop vielha, te navisar, paraulas escrichas sul temps passat Larmas d'un angel qu'es mai calat, me sento las e desvueidat, incendi fòrt que m'a esbrisat la pors sul vent vai chaminar L'aucel chabrier subia pian escoto encara lo tiu chantar compreno pas qu'es que es passat vuei pas comprene....m'agrada pas. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- COLD It's dark and cold in my village fireplace lit and the sky is grey written words, yellow sheet black figure, white face empty silence, iced grass jays fly over the Curmà you're gone, you rised, you left me without a goodbye nooooo I don't like to be here all alone thinking nooooo a black limbo scares me , I don't like it It's hard to remember you here happy as a child old song, rimember you words written on past times Tears of a nangel that never came down I feel tired and empty strong fire that made me crumble dust in the wind starts his trail the owl whistle slowly I listen to your song I don't understand what happened I don't want to understand... I don't like it
4.
03:00
TROPICAL OC Pais si ben luenh sai pas? I a de montanhas? aucels tropicals e flors de totas raças Sus un avion arriba lo Silverio ritme son e còr m'agrada aquesta dança! Jungla coloràa, orango e "praia blanca" arbo patanut e un bel pitac dal mango súmia dau cauchó, cabanas de la cana palmas de coçòts, i pòs pas creire òme! Ritme colorat te fai dançar laissa lo trabalh taca a balar Ris nuech e matin, faisòls coma pietança frucha coma vin e bira coma aiga charn l'apres mesgiorn e peis quora vas duerme sas aquel pais es d'Òc coma lo nòstre! Forrò, rigodon, dance hall, metal baleti sauça, reggeton.... musica en la via! tecno, electro, valsa..... pòrta una caipirinha vira un pauc la testa e mi siu bel’e lord! Òc, occitania, dau tròpic a las valadas liam de musica amistat de gents sons des tradicions, votz d’un novel monde... lenga, temps e còr m'agrada aquesta dança! Ritme colorat te fai dançar laissa lo trabalh taca a balar Avem pas confins monde vesin tuchi ensem aqui Tropical .. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- TROPICAL OC Far away country Do I know? Are there any mountain? Tropical birds and every kind of flower With an airplane Silverio arrives rhythm, sound and heart I like this dance! Colourful jungle, orang-outang and white beach naked trees and a nice mango woodpecker rubber monkey, cane hut zucchini palms, you can't imagine it, buddy!!! colourful rhythm makes you dance stop working start to dance rice night and day, beans as a dish fruits as wine and beer as water beef in the afternoon and fissh when you go to sleep you know this country is d'Oc like our own! Forrò, rigoudon, dance hall, metal baleti salsa, reggeton...music in the street! tecno, eletctro, walzer... bring a caipirinha turn your head a little and I'm already drunk! Oc , occitania, from tropic to the valleys musical bonds, friendship of nations sound of tradition, voices of a new world... tongue, time and heart I like this dance!! colourful rhythm makes you dance we have no broders close worlds all together here Tropical ..
5.
04:36
ANNABELLE E la vacança es comensàa! e lo trabalh vau desmentiar! charjo la maquina bandat e per la via me vau campar, vers de la còsta vau mirar de la Lombarda chal passar. Arribat en poncha, siu content, paura veitura...n'en pòl pus... taca a molar lo siu motor.. Me tròbo a pè, che pòlo far? Que i à un pastor! Me pòletz ajudar? Me dis "Bien sur.., vuei mac lo cul.." ahhh es l'istàa, arriba la chalor e partir en pauc vers lo mar e la Còsta d'Azur…la la la Bó la veitura reparàa, lo trafanari eschaudat, taco calar vers Isola. Tot d'un crep me chal fermar que i a? un chamós aqui piantat e de la via se boja pas ! Taco a bramar e trompettar, aquel salòp me gacha mal, "que vòs bocaç? me chal calar?" Mi siu calat..e n’el que fai? bassa i còrns tot d'un crep! E desgenat me pilha a cornàas! ahhh es l'istàa, arriba la chalor e partir en pauc vers lo mar e la Còsta d'Azur ahhh es l'istàa bó las fiors, tamborin e lo pan banhat ....lo pantai d'un amor Laisàa la bestia e i sios còrns me vau escapar d'aquel postaç "bonur lo temps es bel encar!". Ai pas finit de dire "es bel" que gròssa e niera arriba pian aquela nebia es sus a mi.. taco a grelear gròs coma la man.. e mi pian pian, siu al bachas? es plen de nebias lo veu pas... pico lo nas contra un cartel que i a escrich ici de bel? "que sies a Nissa! ...Janavel!" La "Vielha villa" piena de gent russos, almands, baróns engles! lo miu patois es pas frances... Ente la bruma e lo ciel nier viro per òstes e per bicels lo vin es char e cala lens! La fin dal jorn es arribàa me sio trobat bel e espelat mas aquela mar l'ai pas trobàa... enfin lo ciel que m'a ajutat la filha de l'òste m'à ponchat: ...."a mesanuech vau desmontar.." -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ANNABELLE My holiday begins I forget work I load my car up to the top and I drive away on the road I give a glance towards the coast I must cross the Lombarda pass I’m happy when I get up there but my poor car can’t go any longer its engine starts suffering I’m left on foot, what can I do? There’s a shepherd!! “Can you help me?” He answers “Sure! In exchange I would only take advantage of your bum” ahhh, it’s Summer time, it’s getting warm, it’s time to leave to the Côte d’Azur… la.la.la.la. With my car repaired and my bum hot I start driving down to Isola Suddenly I have to stop what’s up? A chamois stuck in the middle of the road! I start shouting and honking my horn that bastard looks at me suspicious what do you want, you billy goat? Do I really have to get out?” I do get out of my car and what does it do? It lowers its head all of a sudden! And it starts goring me with no regrets! ahhh, it’s Summer time, it’s getting warm, it’s time to leave to the Côte d’Azur… it’s summer time, with flowers, “tamburin” (little drum) and the “pan bagnat” (lit. soaked bread)… and a dream of love Leaving behind the beast and its horns I run away from that horrible place “Fortunately the weather keeps being nice!” I hardly finish to say it when a huge black cloud slowly comes right on me it starts hailing steadily and I drive slowly, may I be on the seaside? it’s cloudy and I can’t see the sea I bump into a sign what’s written here? “you’re in Nice! … you idiot!” The “old town” full of people Russian, German, English gentlemen My dialect is not French… Through the fog and underneath the black sky I go around looking for bars and glasses The wine is expensive and goes down easily! It’s finally the end of the day I’m totally broke and I could not find the sea… but Heaven helped me in the end the girl from the inn has eyed me up … “I’m off at Midnight…” ahhh, it’s Summer time, it’s getting warm, it’s time to leave to the Côte d’Azur… it’s summer time, with flowers, “tamburin” (little drum) and the “pan bagnat” (lit. soaked bread)… and a dream of love
6.
04:23
DERIVAS La mar es larga bateu de bòsc luenh es la còsta marea bassa ondas sul vis tot es salat terra promessa aquel pais coma un miratge en la memòria desert perdut vers l'orizont Que nos espera s'aquel costat, tremps de miseria tempesta fòrta vent de mistral vai arribar destin migrant vers l'avenir, l'abis se duerb nòste futur se vai pausar au som dau mar I nòsti vielhs l'avian ja fach aquel passat pas luenh es aqui denant pòrt d'Argentina, merchat de Paris trobar un pòst onte poder manjar onte poder somelhar un futur per las meinàas, avenir pas donat, lo present es aqui denant que nos parla dau passat que nos parla …escotem! un Cristo que se chama Allah ...Africa Asia Medi Orient pel brusàa, solelh e set estòrias diversas sus l' esquina, estessa vuelha de futur podem far finta de ren veire, sarrar la ment e les aurelhas, poden beicar arrier, campar la man novel futur vai començar Deriva en l'espaci, sul pichòt monde se siem trobats aqui migrants lo siem tuchi lo siem encar l'estòria retorna, en rier e anant coma ondas en lo mar, coma la ment en lo temps jamai solets se trobarem s'aquel balon borrat de gent en mes de l'espaci vueit e nier quarcòsa de bon lo trobarem, es pas tresòr d'òr e d'argent mas es la vida, lo filament, dis que tuchi siem istés, estiças d'aiga en la corrent la mescla es deman present futur onte nais lo Temps -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ADRIFT The sea is a large wooden boat far is the coast low tide, waves on my face everything is salty promised land is that village as a mirage in the memory boundless desert towards the horizon What is ahead of us on the other side We, drenched in misery storm and high onshore wind are coming migrant destiny towards the future the abyss opens out our future rests on the sea bed Our forefathers had already done it That recent past is in front of us port in Argentine, market in Paris finding a place where you can eat, where you can dream a future for your kids, a future not given as a gift our present is facing us and talks about our past it talks… let’s listen! A Christ named Allah … Africa Asia Middle East burnt skin, sun and thirst different stories, on our back the same lust for future we can pretend that we don’t see it, we can close our mind and ears we can look back hold out our hands a new future is about to start Adrift in the space, we found ourselves on this small planet here we are all migrant people and we still are history comes back again, forwards and backwards like the waves in the sea, like the mind through time we will never be alone on this ball, packed with people in the middle of the black empty space we will find something good for us it’s not a golden and silver treasure but it’s life, it’s the thread that tells us that we are all the same, water drops in the current the mixture is the present-tomorrow-future where Time begins
7.
COMA PORS SULS PEIRAS Coma pors suls peiras jalàas d'invern lo temps ista ferm sul vent coma via en la nuech i sons ni sens es drech la fin l'infinit tomba sul siu moviment s'arresta pas l'infinit a finit s'aquel fil de chançon coma pors en lo desert se pausa un pauc lo miu temps es finit sul pantai infinit lo temps que passa lo temps que resta lo temps que laissa lo temps s'arresta jamai …finis sul pantai lo temps que passa lo temps que resta lo temps que laissa lo temps s'arresta jamai ...finis e s'en vai -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- AS DUST ON THE ROCKS As dust on the rocks that freezes in winter stays time suspended in the wind as a road in the night the sounds the sensis it’s right the end The infinite fallen on its movement does not stop The infinite has ended up on this thread of song as dust in the desert it rests a little my time has finished on the infinite dream Time that passes Time that stays Time that leaves Time never stops … it ends up on our dream Time that passes Time that stays Time that leaves Time never stops … it ends and goes away
8.
03:30
M'ENVOLAREI M'envolarei sul treno bó las alas dal Pian dal Rei.. sença far bordel, bel e piasent, pas de gròs bagatges un pauc d'amor …e papiers pintats. si la cigala ama la chalor ieu en donarai, matin m'endormirai e si una filha soleta ista jamai, de nuech encara ieu arriberai. Fifres e trompetas, amics de fère e canas, sul miu chamin de puerc e de santons i bonomas son escasi tots bó mi e i plandrons comandon lo pais. Tuchi que ploron, se fan de gran sagrins ieu beico anant e beu lo miu pastis tròp de paraulas, taulas riondas e partits una palha al cul! aqueste bel pais Coma la nuech arriba apres dau quiar las causas bònas arriban apres de jorns e si lo monde duerm e pensa pas un jorn pas luenh tot vai tramolar. Pus de poder, palais que van tombar i Presidents ent’al frac se lo van pilhar sarei aqui bó lo pastis finit un bel sorris e pas pus de sagrins. S'aqueste treno arribarè jamai en lo ciel biòi lo polarei trobar la fantasia se pòl pas crompar la libertat es tot çò que ai. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I'M GONNA FLY I'm gonna fly on the train with my wings from Pian del Re... without noise handsome and good, carrying small luggage a little bit of love.... and colourful paper. If cicada loves heat I'll give it away, I'll fall asleep in the morning and if a girl can't stay alone I'll come back again at night. Flutes and horns, friends made of iron and reed, saints and pigs on my road almost every poor fellow is with me and lazybones rule the country Everybody weeps, they have lot of worries I look forward and drink my pastis too much talking, round tables and parties a spike in the ass! To this beautiful country Like night comes after morning good things take days to arrive and if people sleep and don't think one day not far away, everything will start to crumble No more Power, Palaces will fall Presidents in tailcoat will shove it I'll be there when my pastis is over smile on my face and no more problems If this train will never come you can find it in the blue sky fancy can't be bought freedom's all I got.
9.
03:33
Es lo temps d'amor es lo temps de prima fai chantar rossinhòl fai criar lo còr s'enchamina pian coma un fuec de reis e te brusa tot, dona pas lo temps. Coma un lac l'invern desot de la fiòca tu lo pòs pas veire mas n’el es aqui sentiment coatat lo pòs pas estremar e te fai chantar Si lo temps d'amor es tot lo temps ai de temps encara per prene lo temps Si lo temps es gaire me fau pas chagrins, mi sai lòn que dire, se vòs escotar... Son paraulas finas, intron dapertot, coma l'aiga quiara , anaran t'aigar, e si tu vòs buve dau miu doç amor coma fior de prima... Filha, polia lo miu tresòr, d'òr d'argent, filha tant bela Filha, sucre mel lach e passion, la tia pel, filha tant bela lo chaud lo ros sabor dal tiu bel fior lo doç lo fin sabor dal tiu amor Sòrt de maison, laissa-te menar, te mòstra la via lo vent chaud dal mar sus aquela rota, palmas e solelh bianc, un pòrt desert, de gabians au bar... per calancas estrechas sentes la mia votz e se sies ici sies ben arribàa bó i mies uelhs biòis siu denant de tu grand coma lo mar... -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- GIRL It's time for love, it's springtime it makes nightingales sing, it makes your heart scream it slips in slowly, like a fire made from roots and burns you, with no escape like a winter lake under the snow you can't see it, but he's there secret feeling you can't hide and it makes you sing If love time is all the time I still have time to take my time If time is few and I don't worry I know what to say, if you want to listen.... they are small words, they can enter everywhere like clear water, they'll pour over you and if you want, you can drink from my sweet love like a springtime flower... Girl, my beautiful treasure, silver and gold, wonderful girl Girl, sugar, honey, milk and passion, your skin, beautiful girl the hot, red taste of your flower the sweet, thin taste of your love Get out of your home, let it take you the warm wind of the sea shows you the way palms and white sun on that road deserted port, seagulls in a bar from narrow passages you hear my voice and if you're here you've arrived with my blue eyes, I stand in front of you wide as the sea...
10.
03:38
NEU Cala lentament la tia flanela las lengas bojon fito calor dai còrps que freton Sento lo tiu còrp que es mar e aiga trempon las tias jambas boja boja fito Tròbes lòn que cerches, lo vòles eira, trucha-me..te sento la tia man que cala sento lo poder che monta, eschauda trompetas dins las aurelhas e diables dins lo còr Polia coma tot la tia figura, la lenga fina licha la sento sul mio sabre, silenci e gemits lo plaser vai creise las mans coma lasardas darreire la tia luna Quintaina niera es la tia fior rossa se boja la mia lenga sabor es doç e aigre Lo ritme de la vueia aumenta encara tu sies lo miu plaser e mi lo vuei tamben Duerbes la tia gola vòs lo tiu serpent (sentes coma boja) tendre coma lama (la mia lama duerb) trucha la tia pel. Esquina color lach sudàa de vuelha se fermarè jamai lo sòl es freit e negre Te sento, tu me sentes lo ciel cria aucel que te fai gola tu sies la mia tortura la man que pica fòrt la tia cueiça i gemits dau plaser eschaudon la mia linfa darrier de las aurelhas paraulas doças lo sentes, tot, lo sentes, arriba, sì te vuei Fòrt coma tempesta (sentes lo tron lo sentes) senteme dedins (tu me sentes si tu me sentes) coma un ors sarvatge (dins lo bòsc perdut) cria la mia fam. Tebe, coma sucre, s'enchamina lo morre s'avesina sens drech coma faisinas vibra tot entorn, es coma circle sento pus la testa amor que me fai bòrni Pus fito vuei encara, de mai tu pòs donar-me al som de la via lo jus es poesia tot d'un crep arriba potent coma un'armada aqui que tu lo vòs aqui que mi lo vuei ( rip ) Biancha coma neu, es la mia passion dona-me encara, vuei murir amont -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- SNOW Your top goes down slowly Our tongues move fast Heat of our bodies that brush against each other I feel your body, it’s sea and water That wet your legs Move, move fast You find what you are looking for, you want it now, Touch me… I feel you Your hand goes down I feel power rising up, heating up Trumpets in my ears And devils in my heart As beautiful as ever your shape The thin tongue licks I feel it on my stick Silence and moans, pleasure deepens Our hands like lizards Behind your moon Black alley is your red flower My tongue moves Sweet and sour taste The rhythm of desire deepens and deepens You are my pleasure And I want it Open your mouth You want your snake (feel how it moves) Soft like a sword (my sword opens its way) It touches your skin. Milky white back, wet with desire It will never stop The floor is black and cold I feel you, you feel me, the sky is yelling Dick that tempts you You are my torture My hand that hits your thigh The pleasure moans Heat my limph Sweet words close to my ear Can you feel it all, can you feel it? It’s coming, yes I want you As powerful as storm Can you feel the thunder, can you? Feel me inside you You feel me, yes you feel me Like a wild bear In a lost wood Shouts my hunger Lukewarm like sugar it starts going Your face gets nearer Your breast up like wood bundles Everything quivers around us, it’s like a circle I can’t feel my head anymore Love makes me blind Faster, I want more, you can give me more At the end of the road The juice is poetry All of a sudden it comes as powerful as an army Here you want it Here I want it As white as snow Is my passion Give me more I want to die up there
11.
03:03
ES Drecha la via sus l'asfalt es lòng lo viatge, sas des ans ne son passats se siem pas arrestats i pels un pauc pus biancs lo son un pauc pus nier sas, eh? lo temps es ben passat nos siem encara vius Òc es la nòsta tradicion lo sang es tot aqui se siem pas tròp polits anatz d'un autre cant se siem pas tròp gentils anatz balar ben luenh eh vos? v'agrada lo bordel? vos en donem de mai! Es tramblament que arriba es caissa gròssa en estòmi es la bassa que esquiapa es la guitara en flamas es fluta coma lama es semiton que chanta es lo sang das aurelhas es Lou Seriòl que arriba Quadre, lo cul sus lo furgon se lo siem fach ensem Provença, Lengadòc, valadas, pireneus crozets e cassolet barrións e paxaran eira tacatz butar-lo vos lo cul se l'avetz encar -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- IT IS The road is straight on the asphalt The journey is long, you know Years have gone by We never stopped Our hair a little whiter Our sound a little darker You know? Time has gone well by We are still alive OC is our tradition Our blood is all here If we are not handsome enough Go somewhere else If we are not kind enough Go dancing far away from here What about you? Do you like racket? We’ll make a huge one! it’s the earthquake coming it’s bass drum in your stomach it’s bass smashing it’s guitar on fire it’s flute like sword it’s barrel organ singing it’s blood from your ears it’s Lou Seriol coming Square, our bum on the van We made it together Provence, Lengadoc, valleys, Pyrenees, “Cruzet” and “casulet” (local dishes) Joints and “paxaran” (Basque booze) Now it’s your turn to move your bum… If you still have it!
12.
03:50
PAISANS Paisan sies en bola stosera ? es lo temps de sortir encar un bòt d’estremat, de segur, per la via fai atencion, te contròlen da luenh Es una vita aquesta que te chal far delinquent o pas, tranquil pòs pas istar tuchi i ponchs que as lor te vòlen pilhar ...a belòta lor saben pas jogar! Vuei sortir per pupar-me una bira la vitura me chal pròpri pilhar, e la vita en montanha es ben trista... se a l'òste i pòs pas arribar. Da solet, pian, pian, sòrtes de la cort bó i fars destis (fa-te pas chapar!) per la via sas, tu i pòs trobar, vòlen pas jogar , vòlen t'encular!! Se a l'òste i arribes tranquil... ...saré pas tan tranquil lo retorn... doas paraulas e la bota es partia... ...sio pas choc... ma tu vai-lo a contar! Ma tu pensa en pau lòn que chal passar per sortir un bòt, lòn que nos chal faire! La mentina l'as? ...te la chal chuchar... pas de filhas...NO! ...es lo Mareshal!! "Paisans mi ai las balas en pau pienas!" Lo miu vieilh diaria ben aquò... "Ma la guerra es finia o i es tornàa?... siem pas fòls, e i dents i avem encar!" Mas que un autre bòt i vau pas pensar, de fermar-me mi me siu ben estofiat desot la mia Prinz mi i vau butar e a maison content tornarei en chantant! -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- VILLAGERS Villager are you OK tonight? It's time to get out in secret, of course, in the street pay attention, they keep an eye on you from afar That's the life you got to live criminal or not, you can't relax they want to take all your points ...and they can't even play belota! I want to go out and swallow a beer I really have to take my car mountain's life is sad... if you can't reach a pub. Alone, quiet, quiet, you leave the courtyard Lights turned off(don't let them take you!) you know you can meet them on the road they don't want to play, they want to fuck your ass!! If you reach the pub easily... ...to return won't be so easy... have a chat and the bottle is over... ...I'm not drunk... just try to make them understand! Look what we have to face just to go out once in a while, what we got do! Got a peppermint? ....you got to eat it... not for a girl...NO!...for the officer!! "Villagers, I'm pissed off!" My granpa would say ... "War is over or just returned then?... we're no fools and we still got our teeth!!" Next time I won't think about it, I had enough of stopping to halt I'll get them under my Prinz and I'll go back home, singing in joy!! la la la lala lalala lala lalala lala lalala lala la la la lala lala la lala lalala lala lalala lala
13.
03:48
VUTUR L'aire sus las alas monto fito sofle fin bas tencha verda lo romor a finit Las nebias son de lach des poientas en lo ciel pumas jaunas i mies pels que me auçon pus aut vira riond luenh d'aqui -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- VULTURE The wind on my wings I go up fast Sweet breath Down there green colour The noise Is over The clouds are made of milk Embroidery in the sky Yellow feather my hair That lift me upper I go round and round Far away from here

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released March 3, 2012

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Lou Seriol Aisone, Italy

The Lou Seriol were born in 1992, on the wave of the rediscovery and revaluation of the Occitan music.

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