N G R 16: NGR

Are the words drunk or is she somewhere else´

Did she scratch anything´

Is she waiting for someone to slap and to scratch the words´

Can´t wait to see if she went into the darkness. She is knocking at someone´s door, ringing the bell and screaming for some love. Is she´ Is she in love with something, with someone´ Only her can tell.

Well, some words of confort and some kisses is what I can say and send from the distance.

It´s wintertime there, drive the limosine slowly.

See you in one of these days.

Kisses

Any word and prayers to the Vatican and to Jerusalen´

N G R 16: ALLER (g-francais.blogspot.com)

N G R 16: C´est possible que nous allons entré dans une guerre. (g-francais.blogspot.com)

N G R 16: Tell her... Lui dire... (g-francais.blogspot.com)

N G R 16: That Girl´s Dream Le rêve de cette fille (g-francais.blogspot.com)

N G R 16: WOMAN FEMME MUJER FRAU VROUW DONNA 女人女性 (g-francais.blogspot.com)

N G R 16: I M (g-francais.blogspot.com)

N G R 16: Washington DC (g-francais.blogspot.com)

Gonçalo - NGR 16: MASTERMIND GXH - The Adventures of William Tell (goncalo6.blogspot.com)

Gonçalo - NGR 16 (goncalo6.blogspot.com)

...

N G R 16: España (g-francais.blogspot.com)

The IRA songs

MISS MAGGIE

Women of the world or whores Who, very often, are the same Normal women, stars or puddies Females of all kinds, I love you Even to the last of the bitches I want to dedicate these few verses Out of my disgust for men And their warlike morality 'Cause no woman on the planet will ever be more stupid than her brother Neither prouder nor more dishonest Except perhaps, Mrs. Thatcher Wife I love you because When sport becomes war There's no chick, or so few In the hordes of supporters These mad fanatics Drunk with hatred and beer Deifying the morons in blue Insulting the bastards in green There's no hooligan chick Fools and murderers There are none, even in Britain Except, of course, Mrs. Thatcher Woman I love you 'cause A car between the guns You don't get as dumb as Those poor freaks banging Pour un phare un peu amoché Ou pour un doigt tendu bien haut Y’en a qui vont jusqu’à flinguer Pour sauver leur auto-radio Le bras d’honneur de ces cons-là Aucune femme n’est assez vulgaire Pour l’employer à tour de bras A part, peut-être, Madame Thatcher Femme je t’aime parce que Tu vas pas mourir à la guerre Parce’ que la vue d’une arme à feu Fait pas frissonner tes ovaires Parc’que dans les ranges des chasseurs Qui dégomment la tourterelle And occasionally the beurs I've never seen a female Not a woman is shabby enough To polish a revolver And feel invulnerable Except, of course, Mrs. Thatcher It wasn't from a female brain That the atomic bomb came out And not a woman has on her hands The blood of American Indians Palestinians and Armenians Bear witness from the depths of their tombs That genocide is masculine Like an SS man, a bullfighter In this fucking humanity The murderers are all brothers Not a woman to compete with Except maybe, Mrs Thatcher Wife I love you, above all, finally For your weakness and for your eyes When man's strength only holds in his gun or in his tail And when the last hour comes, Hell will be populated by morons Playing football or war To the one who pisses the furthest I'll turn into a dog If I can stay the Earth And as a daily lamppost

Gonçalo - NGR 16: 16 (goncalo6.blogspot.com)

Sam Jackass

France Portugal

DOGS PT AASSS

N G R 16

samedi 2 décembre 2023

NGR

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