Votre chanson thème?

[Condescendante]

(J'ai prit la peine de chercher, y'a pas l'air d'avoir d'autre thread sur le sujet, jusqu'à preuve du contraire, so)

Quelle serait votre chanson thème, genre admettons qu'on ait un BGM dans la vraie vie, quelle chanson jouerait à votre première apparition?

Quelque chose en instrumental de préférence.

Dans mon humilité infinie, Dancing Mad.

*cough* non, pour vrai.

[Blaze]

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DZ71CQiDBpY

[Bobraie]

Modifié 22 mars 2013 par Bobraie

[MattIsGoD]

ou

[Condescendante]

MattIsGod a gagné, j'rentre à la maison.

[Иди и смотри]

not.

[Chicken of the infinite]

[neglisse]

[Paul Évier]

[neglisse]

^très bon, j'écoute souvent cette chanson en marchant

[Lux]

Dans mes bonnes passes :

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_JkLAdJ1v4Q

Grave et dévot.

[odjebi]

^très bon, j'écoute souvent cette chanson en marchant

Moi je l'écoute souvent en voiture avec mes chums

[Иди и смотри]

Yo, c'est tu une toune de Pirates des Caraibes ?

[Capricornue]

Groupe : Dimmu Borgir

Titre : Perfection Or Vanity

Album : Puritanical Euphoric Misanthropia

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eguygknLSww

[lowrain]

[Porte-Parole]

[Purosangue]

Le freak de Montréal

-de LULU FRANC-COEUR

[Purosangue]

J'ai oublié de dire pourquoi c'est ma chanson thème.

D'abord, j'aime bien les paroles et la musique est entrainente. Le texte étant un brin flyée l'instant de deux décimales de temps je me sens transporté dans un monde qui surstimule mon petit octet d'originalité et mon megabit de désir d'être pas comme tout le monde. Non pas que je sois fou, toxicomane ou que j'aies des caractéristiques vestimento -morphologiques particulières, mais bien que j'aime cultiver ma différence dans un potager de bronzai sibérien qui poussent pas vite.

Veux-tu les paroles ?

[Sikaneba]

Non ça va aller.

[RBC]

In the middle of the night I was sleeping sitting up,

When a doctor came to tell me, "Enough is Enough"

He brought me out into the hall, I could have sworn it was haunted,

And told me something that I didn't know that I wanted to hear:

That there was nothing that I could do to save you,

The choirs gonna sing, and this thing is gonna kill you.

Something in my throat made my next words shake,

And something in the wires made the light bulbs break.

There was glass inside my feet and raining down from the ceiling,

It opened up the scars that had just finished healing.

It tore apart the canyon running down your femur,

I thought that it was beautiful, it made me a believer.

And as it opened I could hear you howling from your room,

But I hid out in the hall until the hurricane blew.

When I reappeared and tried to give you something for the pain

You came to hating me again, and just sang your refrain:

You had a new dream, it was more like a nightmare.

You were just a little kid, and they cut your hair,

Then they stuck you in machines, you came so close to dying.

They should have listened, they thought that you were lying.

Daddy was an asshole, he fucked you up,

Build the gears in your head, now he greases them up.

And no one paid attention when you just stopped eating.

"Eighty seven pounds!" and this all bears repeating.

Tell me when you think that we became so unhappy,

Wearing silver rings with nobody clapping.

When we moved here together we were so disappointed,

Sleeping out of tune with our dreams disjointed.

It killed me to see you getting always rejected,

But I didn't mind the things you threw, the phones I deflected.

I didn't mind you blaming me for your mistakes,

I just held you in the door frame through all of the earthquakes.

But you packed up your clothes in that bag every night,

And I would try to grab your ankles, what a pitiful sight.

But after over a year, I stopped trying to stop you

From stomping out that door, coming back like you always do.

Well no ones gonna fix it for us, no one can.

You say that, 'No one's gonna listen, and no one understands.'

So there's no open doors, and there's no way to get through,

There's no other witnesses, just us two.

There's two people living in one small room,

From your two half-families tearing at you,

Two ways to tell the story no one worries,

Two silver rings on our fingers in a hurry,

Two people talking inside your brain,

Two people believing that I'm the one to blame,

Two different voices coming out of your mouth,

While I'm too cold to care and too sick to shout.

You had a new dream, it was more like a nightmare.

You were just a little kid, and they cut your hair,

Then they stuck you in machines, you came so close to dying.

They should have listened, they thought that you were lying.

Daddy was an asshole, he fucked you up,

Build the gears in your head, now he greases them up.

And no one paid attention when you just stopped eating.

"Eighty seven pounds!" and this all bears repeating.