Mosica ta discansar y aclarexer a esmo y a capeza

Ska-p vuelve al campo de batalla

El grupo madrileño Ska-p saca su nuevo disco 99% el próximo 5 de Marzo. Animo a mis lectores que escuchen canciones de este grupo, para que puedan tener otro punto de vista de temas de actualidad, así como para que desarrollen un poco de empatía (por cierto me parece increíble que el corrector no reconozca esta palabra) social y una mentalidad crítica ante el sistema. Aquí os dejo una canció de su nuevo disco, así como algunas de mis favoritas para que podáis escuchar.

Our House

Madness Our House letra
Father wears his Sunday best
Mother's tired she needs a rest
The kids are playing up downstairs
Sister's sighing in her sleep
Brother's got a date to keep
He can't hang around

Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our ...

Our house it has a crowd
There's always something happening
And it's usually quite loud
Our mum she's so house-proud
Nothing ever slows her down
And a mess is not allowed

Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our ...

Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our ...
Something tells you that you've got to get away from it

Father gets up late for work
Mother has to iron his shirt
Then she sends the kids to school
Sees them off with a small kiss
She's the one they're going to miss
In lots of ways

Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our ...

I remember way back then when everything was true and when
We would have such a very good time such a fine time
Such a happy time
And I remember how we'd play simply waste the day away
Then we'd say nothing would come between us two dreamers

Father wears his Sunday best
Mother's tired she needs a rest
The kids are playing up downstairs
Sister's sighing in her sleep
Brother's got a date to keep
He can't hang around

Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our street

Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our ...

Our house, was our castle and our keep
Our house, in the middle of our street

Our house, that was where we used to sleep
Our house, in the middle of our street

Our house, in the middle of our street

Eres música

Para unos un modo de diversión, un símbolo de esperanza, te apoya cuando todo está oscuro, te levanta cuando tu moral se desploma, te hace aprovechar los momentos con los amigos.  Eres la flecha sincera que rasga la noche dando  paso a luminosos rayos de luz que iluminan mi camino; corcheas sinceras que me evaden, que me enseñan a sulfurarme, a decir todo lo pienso, a relajarme, a apreciar al que me abraza por gusto y al que me da su mano para luego cortármela; realzas el amor y el odio, eres el arma más peligrosa, estás en las manos de los pobres y los ricos, de reyes y sabios, de sacerdotes, de filósofos, científicos.  Eres la mayoría de los pensamientos que suenan en mi cabeza, me acompañas enfrente de la estufa de mi despacho, en mi cama en las noches inquietas, en momentos de la peña y verbenas con los amigos.  Los problemas se van cuando apareces de la nada; eres mis recuerdos de mi infancia cuando recuerdo escuchar a mi hermano interpretando a el Alla Turca, a mi compañero Carlos tocando mientras hace teatro, a Alberto con la guitarra, demostrando que nunca es tarde para empezar, Jorge e Inés tocando un blues o David con la bandurria llevándonos a tiempos medievales. Adoro  los momentos en los que invades mi cabeza, pero disfruto más cuando te hago hablar a través de las teclas de mi piano. Eres uno de los motores de mi día a día. Eres música.

Irish Pub Song/ Salty Dog- Flogging Molly

I'll wait for you till I turn blue, 

There's nothing more that a man can do, 

Don't get your bollocks in a twist, 

Settle down and take a fit, 

You drank with demons straight from hell, 

They almost nearly won as well, 

You wipe the floor with victory, 

Then puked until you fell asleep.

[ Lyrics from: http://www.lyricsmode.com/lyrics/f/flogging_molly/salty_dog.html ]

Blackened was the banshees wail, 

These boots will never fill her jail

You crawled into an empty boat, 

For the Gulf of mexico, 

Cortez came and so did you, 

From the ashes a charred and blue, 

Smelling like a Salty Dog, 

Back from hell where you belong

Anarchy, the scourge of every sea, 

The antichrist aboard a rig, 

With us your cutthroat theives

The ship went down we all near drowned, 

Ya stood there on the deck, 

Until the spanish came and flogged your arse, 

And dragged ya from the wreck, 

They threw a rope around yer neck, 

To watch ya dance the jig of death, 

They left ya for the starvin crows, 

Hoverin like coolie whores, 

One flew down plucked out yer eye, 

The other he had in his sights, 

Ya snarled him say leave me be. 

(Pause)

I need the Bugger so I can see!