• Lyrics: play full screen play karaoke
• Cerdes - Procol Harum
• Czardas - Mago De Oz
• Sertes - Pato Fu
• Sertões - Pato Fu
• Xrds - Covenant
• 3 Swords - Death Is Not Glamorous
• Swords - Leftfield
• Sorry To Say - Juliet Turner
• Czardas - Malediction
• Certeza - Allothropya

(brooker / reid)
Outside the gates of cerdes sits the two-pronged unicorn
Who plays at relaxation time a rhinestone flugelhorn
Whilst mermaids lace carnations into wreaths for ailing whales
And neptune dances hornpipes while salome sheds her veils
Phallus phil tries peddling his pewter painted pot
But sousa sam can only hear the screams of peep the sot
Who only sips his creme de menthe from terra cotta cups
And exhales menthol scented breath whilst spewing verbiage up
Down technical blind alleys live the wraiths of former dreams
And greeps who often crossed them are no longer what they seem
And even christian scientists can but display marble plaques
Which only retell legends whilst my eyes reach out for facts

(Representa todas las persecuciones que sufrieron los discípulos, y los motines en las cárceles de Carabanchel y Alcalá Meco, al enterarse del asesinato del único que les tendió su mano.)
(Música: Monti)

(Ricardo Koctus)
No fao conta do tempo perdido
Que o tempo s passa
No volta pra trs
No leio as linhas
As linhas so retas
Os versos, poemas
Dilemas so mais
Os contos disfaram
A vida sofrida, corrida
Dos nossos velhos pobres pais
No corto as cordas
Porque sobre elas esto os meus ps
Me admira o cu o limite
Destino, castigo em qualquer lugar
Bendito seja com toda certeza
No h o gente no
Luar como esse do serto
No h gente no

Não faço conta do tempo perdido
Que o tempo só passa
Não volta pra trás
Não leio as linhas
As linhas são retas
Os versos, poemas
Dilemas são mais
Os contos disfarçam
A vida sofrida, corrida
Dos nossos velhos pobres pais
Não corto as cordas
Porque sobre elas estão os meus pés
Me admira o céu é o limite
Destino, castigo em qualquer lugar
Bendito seja com toda certeza
Não há o gente ó não
Luar como esse do sertão
Não há ó gente ó não
Também vida sofrida

You had demons help that night
You stopped my heart
You kept me gasping for breath
There was something there that day
Who dodged my traps
And kept my dogs at bay for you
My way just isn't yours
This is not your crossroads
Gave my soul to someone else

I tried to help you, you spit in my face. I didn't get it then,
but I get it now. You can never get back what you never gave.
You can't lose what you never had.
You shy away from open spaces. You can't stand familiar
faces. I felt so helpless, you felt so bad. Fistfuls of pills
you stole from your dad. All those evenings when I biked by
to wonder if you were still alive. Alone. A recluse.
Of course I was there. If I hadn't been, I couldn't stand myself.
But you just got thinner, into thin air. Where are you?
What's eating you?
Like a vampire faced with daylight, you turned to smoke.
I swear I tried to break every mirror you couldn't see yourself in.
You cut your own throat with the fragments of their reflections.
The world hates you. I hate the world. The world that raped you.
So you might as well take three swords (your favorite spot).
Draw them from their sheathes of stone and drive them straight
into your heart, the same way you drove us apart. Because
with skin and bones, you're still a ghost. Behind facades,

DANGER
IN EVERY CORNER
I HAVE
BECOME PURE WATER
I CAN IDENTIFY
I CLOSE MY EYES
I WEAR MY SWORD
AT MY SIDE
I WEAR MY SWORD
AT MY SIDE
CLEANSE ME
DEEP IN THE FIRE
I HAVE
BECOME PURE WATER
I WEAR MY SWORD
AT MY SIDE
I WEAR MY SWORD
AT MY SIDE
I WEAR MY SWORD
AT MY SIDE
I WEAR MY SWORD
AT MY SIDE
I HAVE BECOME
PURE WATER
I HAVE BECOME
PURE WATER
I HAVE BECOME

This is the sky before you, hope that you can see it.
Still miles to go before you hit the chill stars, start
feeling the cold.
Feed your curiosity, this could be the start of
something new.
Quiet fears in these darker years so we ask for quiet
miracles.
Bored fool, ah you cry for the moon, then you lock
yourself inside at night.
You want to die for all the lonely, this could be your
last adventure,
One big heroic gesture.
But you can't find a music lover and you can't tear the
system down
And you couldn't save the school children on a Saturday
in a small market town.
Sorry to say we are not that ambitious cos we get
scared.
And days can be long and the nights can be vicious when
we get scared.
Now you lie there in your tv chair asleep among your
memories,
I must speak fast before you're lost to the past and
you are lost to me.
I'd say there are monsters beneath your bed
But there's an angel with a hand on your head.
But you can't find a music lover and you can't tear the
system down
And you couldn't save the school children on a Saturday
in a small market town.
Saturday in a small market town.

Representa todas las persecuciones que sufrieron los discípulos, y los motines en las cárceles de Carabanchel y Alcalá Meco, al enterarse del asesinato del único que les tendió su mano.
[Música: Monti]