i can't take it anymore when you're late no, i can't take it anymore, but you don't care i can't take it. i can't wait. how can i take it? no, no.

at night you can cry, you can nearly die. who cares? you can cry or die. they don't give a damn. you get that ! like pigs, my baby now you can kill. oh baby now you can kill a cop.

bienvenu dans ce foutu monde, bienvenu sur terre, j'espère que tu trouveras le moyen de tirer parti de cet enfer. welcome on this fucking world welcome here on earth i hope you'll find a way to make use of this old world

i had a fight with my baby, when she just ask me to swear. i gotta change my color, oh i said yeah i'm a fucking stupid white man, i'm stupid i'm a fucking stupid white man going on the wrong way i'm fucking stupid white man i rule, i'm right, i can tell i'm fucking stupid white man i steal, i judge, i kill, i’m within my rights, i tell you. might is right, figure it out born on the right side, how come i need to change ? it's too good to last, i've been shot i fall down, that's what i needed, i was wrong, but now dead.

oh, look at me, i'm not proud of myself i feel it's going on and going on for so long i feel it coming, i'm burning out. what does it mean ? can't find the reason. and then i feel, dear, how come it’s coming on me, now baby. and i'm proud cause i found it's outta question. but i can feel, i can tell, i can't stand myself. what does it mean ? give me the reason.

trois diesels furieux crissent et grillent le feu. pépette écrasée, mémère est effrayée. rider, rider, le macdo va fermer. ce soir on tue ronald à coup d'supplices abominables. cassoulet mémère, vin rouge et camembert. inquisition motorisée, macdope éradiquée. un génocide culinaire pour un goût planétaire, le clown veut nous empoisonner à coup d'sandwiches aseptisés. big mac, cheese et nausée, bouffe de merde pour le monde entier. nico & data

my mother once told me : "comes a war, you're not going, i'll take care of that ! i'll cut off your forefingers, how will you shoot ?" me, i forgot who i was, can't remember who i am... because I've been a hero in more than one zillion wars dead already, before i was born parading your streets...sedated barely able to recognize one living from one dead ... dead ! still there are words that stuck no matter what ... she said : oh my darling, oh my sweetheart don't tell me you're going, don't tear us apart we are of the same kind, we're like lost fingers hold me dear, hold me and it will all go away blood money so many a poor boy so many a poor girl saw their lives sucked in that monster : blood money who's next ? turtle ramblers & data

oh why was i born with a different face why was i not born like the rest of my race when i look each one starts when i speak i offend oh why was i born with a different face why was i not born like the rest of my race then i'm silent & passive & lose every friend improvement makes straight roads but the crooked road without improvement are road of genius i went to the garden of love and saw what i had never seen a chapel was built in the midst where i used to play on the green and the gates of this chapel was shut william blake & data

oh je suis pas de paris non je suis pas de savigny et encore moins de villiers je suis un gars de nulle part oh je suis pas de gonesse et encore moins de sainte geneviève des bois non je suis pas de viry chatillon je suis un gars de nulle part et quand je pense à tous ces gars qui osent prétendre appartenir à un groupe ou une bande idée, parti, quartier, cité, j'veux pas signer j'vois vraiment pas ce qu'il y a à y gagner non je ne suis pas de kaboul non je ne suis pas de paris et encore moins de new york je suis un gars de nulle part dmz & data

work, produce, consume, work, produce, and consume, the infernal circle. i see a vision of a great rucksack revolution, thousands or even millions of young children, wandering around with rucksacks, going the mountain to pray. making children laugh and old men glad, making young girls happy and old girls happier, all of them zen lunatics who go about writing poems that happen to appear in their heads for no reason and also by being kind and also by strange unexpected acts that keep giving visions of eternal freedom to everybody and to all living creatures, that's what i like about you gold book and smith, two guys from the east coast that i thought was dead. i thought west coast dead. the boys was glad, they rested up for more, and jack cooked mush, in honor of the door. the boys was sitting in a groove of trees, listening to buddy explain the keys. boys, sez he, the dharma is a door... let's see... boys, i say the keys, 'cos there's lotsa keys, but only one door, one hive for the bees. so listen to me, and i'll try to tell all, as i heard it long ago, in the pure land hall. for you good boys, with wine-soaked teeth, can't understand these words on a heath. i'll make it simpler, like a bottle of wine, and a good wood-fire, under stars divine. now listen to me, and when you have learned the dharma of the buddhas of old and yearned, to sit down with the truth, under a lonesome tree, in yamu arizony, or anywhere you be, don't thank me for telling, what was told me, this is the wheel i'm a-turning, this is the reason i be: mind is the maker. jack kerouac & data