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Sunday, 22 October 2017
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Escuchar Las Divinas - Atrevete a Soñar


Letras

Jazmin (Luis Alberto Spinetta)

Caído de un amor
nunca encontrarás
luces donde mirar
ni piel donde morir

Tu amor de jazmín
el deseo no me deja partir
jazmín, el deseo es solo un fruto
sin un hombre ni una mujer ni un recuerdo....

Ritual del querer
en tus labios soy
soy nadie, nadie y el placer
oh, me abandonaré
a tu amor de jazmín
es que el deseo no me deja partir
oh, jazmín, el deseo es solo un fruto
sin un hombre ni una mujer
jazmín, uh uh uh ...
tengo apuro por quererte así oh, oh, oh, oh, oh..

Oh, jazmín, de tus ojos no podré volver

Caído de un amor nunca encontrarás
las pupilas de un alma que te espera
ni piel donde morir
tu amor de jazmín
es que el deseo no me deja partir
oh, jazmín el deseo no me deja partir
oh, jazmín el deseo no me deja partir
oh, jazmín el deseo no me deja partir

oh, jazmín, de tus ojos no sabré volver, oh

Volver A NacerComo las olas del mar (Azrael)

Como las olas del mar
ya vengo, ya me vuelvo a ir.
Como el aire quisiera ser
para entrar muy dentro de ti.
No se que cono piensas
que nada te hace reaccionar.
Susurro a tu oido, escuchare.
Confia en mi,
aprovechar tu existir
o es ningun chiste
ve a disfrutar,
los segundos devorar
porque es imposible
?volver a nacer!
Como un billete de mil
finalmente vuelve a ti,
que lo sueltas sin pensar
que a tu mano volvera
los hilos invisibles pensando al par
nos ataran
susurro a tu oido, escuchare.
Confia en mi,
aprovechar tu existir
no es ningun chiste
ve a disfrutar,
los segundos devorar
porque es imposible
?volver a nacer!

Puto (Molotov)

Que, muy machino?
A muy machino?
Marica nena, mas bien putino

Que, muy machino?
A muy machino?
Marica nena, mas bien putino

(puto, puto, puto)

PUTO!! el que no brinque, el que no salte
PUTO!! el que no brinque y eche desmadre
PUTO!! el guey que quedo conforme
PUTO!! el que creyó lo del informe
PUTO!! el que nos quita la papa
PUTO!! tambien joto el que lo tapa
PUTO!! el que no hace lo que quiere
PUTO!! puto nace y puto se muere

Amo matón
Matarile al maricón
Y que quiere ese hijo de puta?
Quiere llorar! quiere llorar!

Amo matón
Matarile al maricon
Y que quiere este hocicon?
Quiere llorar! quiere llorar!

Y este son va dedicado a Micky,
Y a toda su familia... y a Iñaky, su hermano

PUTO!
Le faltan tanates al..
PUTO!
Le faltan trompiates
PUTO!
Le faltan tanates al..
Puto, puto..

Amo maton
Matarile al maricon
Y que quiere ese hijo de puta?
Quiere llorar! quiere llorar!

(puto! puto! puto! puto!)

Santiago (Attaque 77)

Ellos están bien llenos y nosotros hambrientos,
nos tienen aplacados así,
bicicleteándonos con esta mierda de sueldo,
y ellos viven a lo Beverly Hills
así, mientras saben que vamos a esperar
perdemos el tiempo, nadie nos va a ayudar
Salgamos a las calles a tomar lo que es nuestro,
la rabia no se puede ocultar
saqueando sus viviendas,
así como ellos hicieron con nuestra dignidad.
Mirando a lo lejos, se puede divisar
un pueblo dormido que quiere despertar
Santiago no duerme más la siesta
Santiago no duerme más la siesta
La autoridad dió un paso al costado,
dijeron: nosotros terminamos acá
entonces contrataron matones a sueldo,
basura hay en cualquier lugar
Algunas personas nunca comprenderán
amargo el obrero no puede continuar
Santiago no duerme más la siesta
Santiago no duerme más la siesta
algunas personas nunca comprenderán,
amargo el obrero no puede continuar.

Angels Fly (Reamonn)

She saw the world through her smile
She held your hand you knew it'd be all right
She spoke of places she'd never been
"Now is the time", she'd say, "to live the dream"

And she told us how she could fly
And she said "no need for goodbyes"
For we'd see her there in the skies
where angels fly, angels fly

She stayed a while that summers day
Spoke through a smile of how she'd go away
I saw in her eyes, her pain
She took my hand and said "it'd be ok"

And now she's soaring up into the sky
And she takes us all in her flight
And she told us the reasons why
angels fly, angels fly

Some summer days I can see the smile
And in so many ways she's still alive
And the love that she gave I keep down inside
I'm keeping it safe 'till I learn to fly

And she's soaring up into the sky
And she takes us all in her flight
And I feel she's still alive
where angels fly, angels fly

And she told us how she could fly
And she said "no need for goodbyes"
For we'd see her there in the sky
where angels fly, angels fly
angels fly, my sweet angel flies.

Vivir Sin Ellas (Intocable)

ESTOY TRATANDO DE ENCONTRAR UNA SALIDA
PORQUE ESTE AMOR QUE SIENTO HOY
ME ESTA MATANDO

ESTOY TRATANDO DE ENCONTRAR UNA SALIDA
PORQUE ESTE AMOR QUE SIENTO HOY
ME ESTA MATANDO

NECESITO SABER
¿A QUIEN VOY A QUERER?
ESTOY LLENO DE DUDAS

NO SE ¿QUE VOY HACER?
CON ESTE ABSURDO AMOR
TENGO MIEDO A PERDER
A LA MUJER QUE ME DA SU AMOR
SU PASION, SU TERNURA
CAMBIARLO TODO POR UNA ILUSION
SE QUE ES UNA LOCURA

CON UNA SIENTO PERDERME EN SU AMOR
SU PASION ME DOMINA
Y ELLA DESPIERTA LA FIERA
QUE TRAIGO EN MI PECHO DORMIDA

LA OTRA ME ABRIGA EN SUS BRAZOS, ME CALMA
LA QUE SIEMPRE SOÑE QUE ME AMARA

NO SE QUE VOY HACER
NO LAS QUIERO PERDER
NECESITO EL AMOR, EL CALOR DE LAS DOS
NO PODRIA VIVIR SIN ELLAS
NO PODRIA DEJAR DE QUERERLAS

NO SE QUE VOY HACER…..

YO QUISIERA TENER PARA SIEMPRE SU AMOR
NO LAS QUIERO PERDER
YO QUISIERA TENER PARA SIEMPRE SU AMOR
PERO NO PUEDE SER

Pepe Botika (¿Donde Estan Mis Amigos?) (Extremoduro)

Pepe Botika es un honrado traficante tomando copas me l'encuentro to los días
me cuenta historias de sus años en la cárcel
a veces había suerte y si tenía pasta salía.
Que vergüenza, Señoría. ¿Cuánto cuesta su amnistía?
Lo colocaron con las manos en la masa
cuando venía del campo de coger higos
entodavía no l`an visto por su casa
lo tienen preventivo en una celda de castigo
¿¡Dónde están mis amigos!? Encerrados sin motivo.
Carabanchel, La Modelo. Herrera de la Mancha,
Cáceres II. Alcalá Meco, Puerto de Santa María.
El contrabando era su oficio más brillante
y las fronteras se las salta to los días
tengo colegas en casi todas las cárceles
era de Plasencia me parece que decía.
Que vergüenza, Señoría ¿Cuánto cuesta su amnistía?
Un día le hicieron un registro al soterrizo
y le incautaron 20 kilos de chorizo
hashis, caballo y cocaína pal que compre
pues ya lo dijo dios: no sólo de pan vive el hombre.

Astral Boy (Killing Heidi)

Astral boy you're so high
Will you ever come down?
Soaring over everyone
You're bigger than the stars

Astral boy you're so hot
Will you ever melt?
Flying so close to the sun
Now you know how I felt

Now you're cold, you're so alone
Sitting on the floor
Hardwood boards and abstract thoughts
Gesture to the door

To Dethrone The Witch-Queen Of Mytos K'Unn (The Legend Of The Battle Of Blackhelm Vale) (Bal-Sagoth)

[The Chronicles of War:]
The vast armies of Mytos K'unn, marshalled by a sorceress of great power
known as Zyrashana the Witch-Queen, had been cutting a swath through the
Eastern Kingdoms since high summer the preceding year. Empowering her troops
with great sorceries, she had s een all opposition fall before the ravening
swords of her forces since the first bloody campaign; the invasion of the
ancient and noble realm of Delania. The aftermath of the final battle had seen
the systematic slaughter of the Delanian royal family, an d the torture and
execution of all those who had been loyal to their banner. During the ensuing
months, more kingdoms and satrapies toppled before the might of Zyrashana's
legions, commanded by the fearsome and unswervingly loyal battle-lord Talus
Ebonfy re, a man of sublime brutality whom many beleived to be possessed by a
demon-spirit from the dark realms. Emboldened by their victories and the
expansion of their queen's dark dominion, the hordes of Mytos K'unn began the
incursion into the lands of the Northern Tribes, beginning with the grim and
brooding territories south of the Snow Kingdoms... the rugged homelands of the
warlike clans which had been recently united into a strong realm by the
powerful warrior-king Caylen-Tor, a man known to his allie s and enemies alike
as the Wolf of the North. Thinking the barbaric tribesmen little threat, the
Witch-Queen intends a largely unopposed march throught their lands to strike
at the wealthy and fertile realms beyond the Mountain Kingdoms to the west...
bu t Caylen-Tor has vowed that a searing torrent of blood and steel shall meet
all those who deign to enter unwelcome or drive their standard unbidden into
his land... As grim winter slowly yields to spring, the armies of Mytos K'unn
begin their march northwards, and news of the advance of the Witch-Queen's
forces into Blackhelm Vale, the valley known for centuries as the Gate to the
Northlands, soon reaches the highla nd stronghold of Caylen-Tor. Grimly taking
up his sword and spear and donning the woad of war, he vows that Zyrashana
shall pay in blood for every league she has dared venture in his sacred lands.
Scouts soon return with the information that the enemy is camped at the base
of the valley, preparing to march with th dawn. The court shamans forsee
rivers of blood and untold carnage, and great battlespells are woven as
Caylen-Tor leads his vastly outnumbered Northlander warriors to the misty,
moon-swathed e xpanse that is Blackhelm Vale. Legends say that the blood of
many kings has been spilled on the dark earth of the valley over the
generations, and Caylen-Tor promises to his grim gods that the earth will once
again drink deep this night. With his army si lent and brooding beneath the
moon, he knows that whatever the outcome, this night shall see a legend of war
written in blood and the deaths of men... a legend none shall soon forget...

[The War Testament of Caylen-Tor (On the Night of the Bloodying of Swords):]
O' grim gods of battle, empower us this night...
Anoint us with the crimson rain, feed our steel with slaughter...
Let every blow be a killing blow, grant us victory, or a warrior's death.
Come, moon-fogs, Descend to cloak our numbers, the heady scent of battle
beckons,
My ash-hafted spear feels good in my hands, girt 'round with spells (our flesh
gloriously) woad anointed,
Ravens awaiting slaughter soar high above, blood-worms bloat on red carnage,
I'll carve the moon-wheel in their flesh, as havoc churns the heather!

A swirling mantle of mist-magic swathes us, powerful spells woven by the
fen-witches of the great mere... Deep night and moon-mist shall be our allies
as we surge into the fray! At my bidding, the fog clears for a brief moment,
and I gaze down upon the v alley to behold the army of the Witch-Queen...
great tents arrayed upon the heather, powerful steeds tethered, the light from
countless burning brands illumining the night, many warriors standing, weapons
in hand... aye, all sword fodder.

Entwined in war-fogs...
Entwined by war-spells...
Blessed in blood as raven-saters, slake the thirst of steel burning bright,
Reap the harvest of spilled entrails, we'll return with many heads this night.
The death-ravening black fury fills me,
The spatter of hot blood seet on my lips,
This yard of steel sings a deadly song in my grasp!
Cleaving bodies left and right, a head falls with each swing of my blade,
A storm of shafts screaming form yew-bows, (through their armoured ranks we
shall) carve a path with steel, a blood-drenched swath!

And the thirst of the earth shall be slaked with blood at the fields of
carnage...
A staggering sea of crimson, a towering mountain of ravaged flesh,
All enraptured by the searing kiss of steel,
All surfeit from supping deep of the grim chalice of battle...

Brooding gods of the north, display to these outlander thralls thine ire,
Envenom our blades with the death-kiss of a thousand serpents,
Unfetter the dread war-wolves within us,
That their claws may rend, and their jaws may be reddened.

The bloodying is at hand!
My spear hammers into the chest of a warrior, and bright blood erupts
from his lips as he falls to the heather. I turn aside a vicious swordthrust
and my own blade snakes out to cleave the neck of the attacker, shearing
through his veins in a shower of d ark red. An enemy blade opens my shoulder
to the bone, but I sweep my axe out in a deadly arc, its iron head rending
armour and biting deep into flesh. Talus Ebonfyre's abdomen yawns open and he
staggers back as his intestines spew forth in a pulsing mas s. I sunder his
head with another blow as he falls and his skull yields to spill its steaming
contents to the earth. As I watch, a writhing, shadowy form rises from the
smitten corpse of the Witch-Queen's warlord and flees howling into the
night... I vau lt to the saddle of a riderless black war-horse and seize the
banner of Mytos-K'unn... for every one of us that has fallen, we have taken
five of the enemy screaming with us... the battle is ours!

Bright moon, gleam o'er moor and heather, wood and vale, deep fen and
lake, Grim mountains crowned with snows, great rings of stones, black 'neath
the stars, The storms extol our ancient glory, great mounds feed us, power
from the sacred earth. With faith and steel we walk our shadowed paths, our
blood runs as fire, swords blessed by sorcery.

Wolves of the north, raise thine steel to the skies, revel in the pride of
your wounds,
Let our victory-song ride the winds of this blood-gorged eve,
For on this night of red swords we have wrought a legend,
Forged in the fires of our rage, and tempered with the spilled blood of the
slain...

O' grim gods of battle, empower us this night and always,
Anoint us with the crimson rain, forever feed our steel with slaughter...
Let every blow be a killing blow, grant us eternal victory, 'til we die a
warrior's death.

And so did Caylen-Tor turn the armies of Mytos K'unn back from the
frontiers of his northern kingdom. Those enemy soldiers who fled the field as
the mist lifted and their banner fell, are hunted down and brought to their
knees before the king. Summoning a surviving warrior Mytos K'unn, Caylen-Tor
gives unto him two gifts with which to return to his queen; one is the fallen,
sundered banner of Mytos K'unn, the other is the cloven head of Talus
Ebonfyre. The king's words ring out over the blood-drenched m oor: "Take this
message back to your queen... if ever again she deigns to strike against my
people, the slaughter this night will seem as naught compared to the havoc I
shall visit upon her then." When news of the defeat and the fearsome message
of Cayle n-Tor reached Mytos K'unn, Zyrashana's spells of regal dominance
waned, and her many courtiers and councillors, liberated from the imposition
of subservience, plotted against their queen, 'til soon she was driven from
the great royal palace by her own el ite guard, her throne seized by an
ambitious baron who had won the favour of the nobles and mages of the realm.
Evading inprisonment and surviving only by her mastery of spellcraft,
Zyrashana fled to the satrapies of the east, and nothing more was seen or
heard of her for some considerable time...

[Lyrics: Byron]
[Music: Jonny Maudling]

Metal Invasion (Freedom Call)

Oh spiritus, oh sanctus
Adoramus domine
Te deum laudamus
In memoriam, gloriam

Warriors immortal knights
We walk our way alone
Eternally, we're born to write
The sign of victory
Warriors, immortal knights
So far away from home
Eternally, we're born to fight
Forever riding free

And the day has come
Time to die
Somewhere far beyond
On the stairway to the sky
On the rainbow soaring high
We are born from the sun

In our hands we hold the future
As we live so we will die
Carry on to save mankind
Back to back we stand as one
Until the last crusade is done
We're leaving from the night

Call for vengeance, raise your steel
We are the kinghts on our glory ride
Law defenders, raise your swords
Freedom for us all

Hail to the gods of creation
Hail to the king of the world
A hail to the metal invasion
A heavenly kingdom on earth

Godless odysee, endless agony
We're heading for eternal life


Video


El equipo de las divinas,con su tema oficial en la versión méxicana de Patito Feo Atrevete a Soñar.




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