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Hemen zaude: Hasiera / Blogak / Markos Zapiain

Amaren memoria

Markos Zapiain 2020/01/28 22:10

Badoa Berri Txarrak, badator Flos Mariae

Markos Zapiain 2019/11/25 22:20
The Beatlesez geroztik onenak apika, superpotentzia emozionala dudarik gabe

Hainbat helburu lortzeko egokiak dira Flos Mariaekoen abestiak:

a) Urtebetetzeak zoriontzeko

b) Gogoratzeko askatasuna nahi izanez gero, beharrezkoa dela borroka

c) Autonomia pertsonala eta otoitzaren onurak azpimarratzeko: A mi paso

Tamalez, ez dute abesten erdaraz baizik.

Jone Zapiain Iñigo Muguruzari buruz

Markos Zapiain 2019/09/28 23:00

Grabagailua piztu eta hau oroitu du Jonek Iñigoz:

“1993 eta 1994an Gimnasia egiten nuen Pilar Peñak Hondarribian daukan akademian. Gaur egun Pilates deituko litzaioke. Iñigo zen Gimnasiako taldean zegoen mutil bakarra. Garai hartan ez zen ohikoa horrelako taldeetan mutilak ikustea.

Gimnasiatik iluntzean atera eta, ordurako nekatuta egongo zen arren, beti eramaten ninduen autoz etxera, Irungo Lapitzeraino, nahiz eta, Iñigo orduan Dunboan bizi zenez, ni etxera hurbiltzeagatik buelta luze bat eman behar izan. Berezko eskuzabaltasun horrek inoiz ez zion hutsik egin, ez bederen ni lekuko izanik.

2010ean, Moskuko jaietan, nire ahizpa Ainara eta biok Anariren kontzertura joan ginen. Iñigo inguratu eta bere aitaren heriotzaz mintzatu zitzaigun: kolpe ederra hartu zutela, "hostión" hitza aipatu zuen.

Aitortu nion ezin nuela ezta imajinatu ere gure aita noizbait hilko zela; eta Iñigok esan zigun bere ustez oso garrantzitsua zela heriotzari buruz pentsatu eta hitz egitea, bizitzaren zati erabakigarria baita. Handik zenbait hilabetera hil zen gure aita, eta maiz etorri zaizkit Iñigoren hitz haiek gogora, bereziki egun goibel haietan, baina baita gerora ere.

Behin batean, Napoka Iriak kontzertu bat eman zuen Irungo Oiasso museoan. Handik irten eta Kotte adiskidea eta biok San Juaneko Agirre gozodendako kanpoko aldean gelditu ginen. Iñigo eta bere lagun min Jabiolo elkartu zitzaizkigun. Txikitan auzo berean bizi ginen, Lapitzen, eta barrez lehertu ginen garai hartan entzuten eta erabiltzen genituen euskarazko hitz batzuk oroituz, besteak beste urrutizkina, orlegia, izparringia, ezabatzingia… Ingi eta ingi, atsedenik gabe.

Beste batean, udan, arratsaldeko zazpiak aldera, itsasbehera eta jende gutxi Hendaiako Hondarraitzen. Itsasoak ez zuen ohiko kolore urdina. Latza zen egun hartako urdin hura. Hala ere, eguzkiaren azken izpiek bazuten oraindik gure gorputzak goxatzeko aski indar.

Ni amarekin nintzen ur-ertzean, eta halako batean Iñigoren ama, Mari Pepi, guregana argi kontra hurbiltzen sumatu nuen. Mari Pepiren aldamenetik ezustean Iñigo eta Fermin agertu ziren erdi saltoka, arropa eranzten zuten bitartean, eta zuzenean uretara sartu ziren korrika eta jauzika, tanta-zipriztin alaiak barreiatzeaz batera bizipoz eta askatasun sentsazio zoragarri bat ere edonora zabalduz.

Han ibili ziren luzaro, olatuen atzetik eta olatuetatik ihesi, harik eta Kasino aldean bat-batean sortu zen poliziaren sirena-hotsak denok atezuan jarri gintuen arte.”

Iñigo Muguruzaren estanpa batzuk

Markos Zapiain 2019/09/06 13:35

Elitxu izeneko auzo berean bizi ginen txikitan, eta kale berean, orduan Casas Ugarte, Iñigo Muguruza Ugarteren osaba Josetxok eraiki baitzituen hango etxeak. Gero Elatzeta Karrika jarri zioten, eta orain Elatzeta Kalea da. Elitxutik Irungo erdigunerantz zoazela, ehun metrora bizi zen Manzanas, eta kontrako aldera beste ehun metrora, gerora Guardia Zibileko koronel halaber torturatzaile eta UCOren buru izango zen Sanchez Corbí, gure adinkidea. Muguruzatarrak Beraun auzora aldatuko ziren zenbait urteren buruan bizitzera.

Iñigoren ataritik eskuinera Aliziaren denda zegoen. Hango Tigretón, La Pantera Rosa eta txokolatezko Boniak zituen batez ere gustuko. Ataritik ezkerrera, berriz, komiki-denda bat zegoen. Han irensten genituen, 1970. urte inguruan, Jabato, Sigrid, Trueno, Carpanta, 13 Rue del Percebe, Mortadelo eta horrelakoak. Baina baita Los tres mosqueteros, Veinte mil leguas de viaje submarino eta literaturako beste klasiko batzuk ere iruditan, oroz lehen frantsesak. Los tres mosqueteroseko Milady de Winter-ek liluratu zuen Iñigo, eta azalean grabatua zeraman lis-loreak. Harritzen zuen ordea hain antzekoak izateak Milady maltzurraren eta Constance txintxoaren itxurak.

Oker ez banago, ez zegoen komiki-liburua edo aldizkaria erosi beharrik, dendan bertan irakur zitekeen, edo kanpoaldeko petrilaren kontra bizkarra jarri eta eseririk. Beti gordeko zuen Iñigok komiki-zaletasuna, bai irakurle eta bai egile gisa.

Haren ataritik 50 metrora zegoen SEFT autobusen geltokia, Hondarribiarako norabidean. Atzerapenen aurkako mendekuz, Hondarribian “Sakilak, Eruak, Faltsuak eta Traidoreak” deitzen zioten konpainiari. Iñigo umea nabarmen asaldatu zen Hondarribiarako txartela pezeta batetik bira eta bitik hirura igo, baina ondoren, logikak eskatu bezala hirutik laura egin beharrean, zuzenean hirutik bost pezetara garestitu zutenean. Bi Tigretón oparitu behar izan genizkion lasaitzeko.

Jabier, Fermin eta Iñigo gogoratzen ditut, hirurak, eskusoinu banarekin karrikara irten eta batera jotzen, zutik, ibilian. Zortzi-hamar urte  izango zituzten orduan, eta deigarria egiten zen hiru anaien arteko harmonia hura; ezohikoa izaten jarraitzen du. Nik bederen ez dut gisakorik ezagutu.

Aparta zen Iñigoren trebetasun teknikoa, sorginarenak zituen hatzak. Kortaturen lehenbiziko kontzertua Errenteriako muino batean izan zen, gaupasa bat. Basura, Odio, Antirrégimen... eta azkenik, egunsentia hurbil, Kortatu. Emanaldia amaitutakoan, miretsita hurbildu zitzaizkion Basura eta Odioko baxujoleak, eta birgeriaren bat nola egiten zuen azaltzeko eskatu; nekea gorabehera, pazientzia handiz azaldu zien Iñigok, noski.

Aurreko milurteko amaierako uda batean Ismael Lo ikustera joan ginen Lizarrako Los Llanosera, edonon entzuten zen orduan Tajabone. Bizpahiru urte izango zituen gure alaba bat, hain zuzen, seko lo gelditu zen kontzertua hasi bezain laster Iñigoren sorbaldetan arrelepo. Andosillara joan ginen gero lotara, Calle Callejóneko etxe batera. Gamelu edo llama hori baten irudia zeukan Iñigok erabili zuen pijama moreak.

Behin batean, Errigoitiko Bizkaiganen, gauez, Txiplas bertsolariak kooperatibaren funtzionamendua azaldu zigun. Gero, Bermeora bidean, autoko kasetean Positive Bomb, Pedro Mayo, Margarita eta horiek ipini eta Iñigo barrez lehertu zen, gure alabek, artean oso txikiak, ez soilik letrak, baizik eta perkusioa eta dumperrak ere (uste dut dumperrak esan zuela) buruz zekizkitelako. Bere alabez ere, Iñigok zioen oso dibertigarriak zirela. Hiltzera zihoala jakin ostean, biziki hunkitzen zuen alabak jostatzen eta kantari ikusteak.

Eritasuna baino askoz ere lehenagokoa zuen heriotzaren kezka. Beti sortu nahi izan zuen abesti bat bizitzaren eta heriotzaren arteko loturaz, eta arreta deitu zioten Joxan Artzeren bertso hauek: "Sortzean hasi bahaiz bizitzen,/ sortzean hasi haiz ere hiltzen./ Taupadaz taupada bizten hoan heinean,/ taupadaz taupada hoalarik ere itzaltzen.../ Eta horri zeritzagu bizitza./ Eta zergatik ez heriotza?"

Esklerosi anizkoitza diagnostikatu ziotenean yogan hasi zen gure amarekin. Amak ere ondo maite zuen Iñigo, eta ez zitzaion batere zaila, bereziki xarmanta baitzen pertsona helduekin. Beti galdetzen zion guregatik, eskumuinak bidaltzen zizkigun. Euskadin, jende gutxi Iñigo Muguruza bezain kariñosoa.

Talentuen Parabola demokraziaren aitzindari?

Markos Zapiain 2019/08/14 18:45
Mateo 25, 14-30

Karl Löwith-ek eta Carl Schmitt-ek lan ederra egin zuten sekularizatze-prozesua argitu eta frogatzeko, Schmittek Estatu eta justizia-sistema modernoetan kategoria teologikoen transferentzia harrapatuz, eta Löwithek berriz marxismoarena bezalako historiaren filosofia berrietan kristau eskatologia mesianikoaren oihartzunak eta errepikak zehaztuz. Löwithen eta Schmitten ideiak fundamentuzkoak baziren ere, Blumenger-ek zalantzan jarri eta kritikatu zituen, talentu eta fundamentu handiz halaber. Zer ez ote zuen egingo Luc Ferryk Mateo Apostoluak dakarren Talentuen Parabolarekin asmatu duena irakurri izan balu! Ferryk Blumenberg existitu izan ez balitz bezala onartzen du goitik behera sekularizazioaren teoria, Alemaniako filosofiari jaramon egiten dion filosofo frantses gutxietako bat izan arren, Jean-Claude Monod-ekin batera.

Talentuen Parabolan garbi ikusten du adierazirik Frantziako Iraultzaren oinarri filosofikoa; orobat Giza Eskubideen Aldarrikapena, eta oro har demokrazia modernoa. Ferryren tesia da moral greko natural aristokratikoan gure balioa jaiotzez dakargunak erabakitzen duela, gure dohain genetikoak; eta hierarkia natural horrek bat etorri behar du gizarteko hierarkiarekin. Zaila da ados ez egotea.

Aldiz, kristautasunari esker, eta Frantziako Iraultzaren bitartez, gaur egun balioesten omen duguna ez da sorkuraz daukagun talentua, baizik eta talentu horrekin, edozein dela ere haren tamaina eta nolakotasuna, zer egiten dugun. Alegia, balio duena ez da biologia, baizik eta lana. Eta hori talentuen parabolan ikusten du garbi adierazirik. Behin eta berriro aipatu du parabola hori zentzu horretan, Apprendre à vivre-n, Sagesses d'hier et d'aujourd'hui-n, Kanti buruzko CD-an, Bouzou-rekin batera berriki atera duen CD-an ere bai...

Talentuen Parabola idatzi zenean ere, talentua aldi berean zen dirua eta trebetasuna, eta horrekin jokatzen du kontakizunak. Honela dio:

"Jainkoaren erregetzarekin, atzerrira irten behar zuen gizonarekin bezala gertatzen da. Bere morroiei dei egin eta ondasunak utzi zizkien: bati bost talentu, beste bati bi eta besteari bat, bakoitzari bere trebetasunaren arabera. Gero, alde egin zuen. Bost talentu hartu zituenak inbertitu egin zituen berehala eta beste bost irabazi. Orobat bi talentu hartu zituenak: inbertitu eta beste bi irabazi zituen. Bat bakarra hartu zuenak, aldiz, lurrean zuloa egin eta bertan gorde zuen nagusiaren dirua.

Handik denbora askora, etorri zen nagusia eta morroiei kontuak hartzen hasi zitzaien. Aurreratu zen bost talentu hartu zituena eta beste bost aurkeztu zizkion, esanez: “Jauna, bost talentu utzi zenizkidan; hona beste bost nik irabaziak”. Nagusiak esan zion: “Ederki, morroi on eta leiala! Gauza gutxian leial izan zara, askoren buru ipiniko zaitut; sartu zeure jaunaren festa ospatzera”. Aurreratu zen, gero, bi talentuduna eta esan zion: “Jauna, bi talentu utzi zenizkidan; hona beste bi nik irabaziak”. Nagusiak esan zion: “Ederki, morroi on eta leiala! Gauza gutxian leial izan zara, askoren buru ipiniko zaitut; sartu zeure jaunaren festa ospatzera”. Aurreratu zen talentu bakarra hartu zuena eta esan zion: “Banekien gizon zorrotza zarena, erein ez duzun tokian hartzen eta zabaldu ez duzun tokian biltzen duzuna; beldur nintzen, eta zure talentua lurrean ezkutatu nuen. Hona zeure dirua!” Nagusiak erantzun zion: “Ai morroi gaizto eta alferra! Bazenekien erein ez dudan tokian hartzen dudana eta zabaldu ez dudan tokian biltzen. Beraz, bankuan jarri behar zenuen nire dirua, itzultzean bere korrituekin jaso nezan. Ken iezaiozue, bada, talentua eta eman hamar dituenari. Izan ere, fruitua dakarrenari eman egingo zaio, eta gainezka izango du; fruiturik ez dakarrenari, ordea, daukan apurra ere kendu egingo zaio. Eta ezertarako gauza ez den morroi hau jaurti kanpora, ilunpetara. Negarra eta hortz-karraska izango dira han”.


Ferryren irakurketan, nagusiak joan baino lehen morroiei banatzen dizkien talentuak dohain naturalak dira, herentziaz jasoak; eta itzulitakoan eskaintzen dizkiotenak, berriz, morroiek dohain horiek landuz atera dizkieten fruituak. Berdindu egiten ditu Ferryk inbertsioa eta lana.

Berdintasun demokratikoa eta meritukrazia grekoen aristokratismo naturalari nagusituko zitzaion, dio Ferryk, eta parabola hau garaipen horren oinarri, aurreikuspen eta bultzatzaile bat da.

Interpretazio hori ez al da, ordea, behartu samarra? Talentuen Parabolaren bitartez Ferryren tesia ilustratu nahi izan balute, argiago mintzatuko lirateke Jainkoa eta Jesu Kristo, adibidez hasieran talentu bakarra jasotzen duen morroia bere lanari esker ugazaba itzultzen denerako hamar talentuz aberastua erakutsiz; edota hasieran gehien duena bilakaraziz, alferkeriaren edota beldurraren erruz, azkenean gutxien eskaini ahalko duena.

Alderantziz, haatik: berez aberatsena da ugazabari gehien itzuli ahalko diona. Eta naturaz eskasena ikararengatik ugazabari gutxien emango diona. Alegia, Einsteinek lan egiten du, bere lanak fruitua ematen du, eta ondorioz nagusiaren laudorioa jasotzen du; ostera, Down sindromeduna beldur da, ez du bere talentu eskasa behar bezala jorratzen, eta beraz ugazabak sekulako errieta egin eta ilunpetara jaurtiko du, negar egin dezan.

Ez ote dugu hemen Ferry liberalaren lapsus esanguratsu bat?

Wanda Jackson oraindik ez da hil

Markos Zapiain 2019/06/08 09:24

Artean umeak ginen haren disko bat etxean agertu zenean. Lau neba-arrebok Fujiyama Mama entzuteko elkartzen ginen. Ez genuen horrela abesten zuen beste inor ezagutzen. Berrogeita bi urte ondoren ere, berdin.

Dr. John ere hil da

Markos Zapiain 2019/06/08 09:18

Berriak eman du albistea

Hemen, The Last Waltz-eko Such A Night gogoangarria.

Leon Redbone hil da

Markos Zapiain 2019/05/31 21:55
Ez adiorik, maisu

Maiz abestu zuen Please Don't Talk About Me When I'm Gone, baina ez diot jaramonik egingo. Inoiz ez zuen argibiderik eman bere jatorriaz, ezta bere bizimoduaz ere. Agertokian eta kantaeran, inor gutxi Redbone bezain dotorea.

Hemen Shine On Harvest Moon abesten, beheko pasio sakabanatuak gobernatu eta goi-mailako helburu artistiko batera arrakastaz daramatzala. 

Bob Dylanentzat nostalgia heriotza da

Markos Zapiain 2019/04/30 17:25
Barakaldon eman zuen kontzertuaren kronika. Argian atera da.

Argian atera da.

Bob Dylanentzat, nostalgia heriotza da, garrantzitsuagoa da zuzenekoa diskoa baino. Lau mila bat kontzertu eman ditu honezkero. Miresgarri zaion hainbat abeslarik egundo ez du diskorik grabatu. Eskarmentu handikoa dirudi agertokian, hamaika gudutan gogortua, oinarrizko arintasun bati eusten dion arren. Ematen du milaka behiren esnea zurrupatu eta zu oraindik ezagutzera heldu ez zaren sekretu baten jabe dela. Deabrua bezain misteriotsua da.

Joan den ostiral iluntzean Barakaldon izan genuen. Jende-samalda nabar bat ageri zen BEC inguruan, zahar, gazte, beltz, hippy, funtzionario eta abar. Mairurik ez, txinatarrik ere ez. Langile apalak bai, Tom Waitsen Kursaalekoaren erdia balio zuen sarrerak. Aretora sartzera gindoazela, pizten hasiak ziren farolak, berotzen airea, zarata bat entzun zen ortzian. Aspaldion ohi bezala, ordu eta hiru laurdeneko emanaldia eskaini zigun, hogei abesti, zortzi bakarrik 1997 baino lehenagokoak.

Segurtasunekoek zale baketsuon eskuak zorrozki zaintzen zituzten, debekaturik baita edonolako grabazio. Joan den astean Dylanek bigarren bisa eten zuen grabatzen ari zitzaion mugikor baten flashak poxelu egiten ziolako. Publikoari errieta egin ostean, estropezu egin eta Elvisekin eta Laboarekin bildu zen ia.

Lau urte zituela abestu zuen lehenbizikoz jendaurrean, senideentzat, amonaren urtebetetzean, eta lurrean ostikoa jorik arreta erakarri eta halaxe gaztigatu zien: “Hasiko naiz soilik behin denak lasaitu eta isildutakoan”. Begirune hura exijitzen jarraitzen du 73 urte geroago ere. Dena den, berehala ahaztu genuen seguraten azterketa, segituan ohitu garen legez Interneteko eta edonongo kontrolera.

Things Have Changed-ek abiarazi zuen emanaldia. Dylanek garbi utzi zigun nola ikusten duen bere burua munduan kokatua: “Jendea txoroa da eta garaia estrainioa; harrapatua eta entzerratua nago, urrutiegi; lehen ardura zitzaidan, baina gauzak aldatu dira".

Ezohikoak dira Dylanen ahotsa zein kantaera. Hori dela-eta ere, egurra ematen diote. Kexatu egin da: "Zergatik idazten dute apoak bezala abesten dudala? Tom Waitsi sekula ez diote gisakorik leporatu!". Ez zaitez kezkatu, Bob, apoa baita, Koldo Izagirrek dioenez, basatzetako urretxindorra. Gainera, sinesgarriagoak egiten dira apoaren kantaeran Tryin’ To Get To Heaven-en bota zizkigunaren tankerakoak, alegia, "uste duzunean guztia galdu duzula, ohartzen zara oraindik pixka bat gehiago gal dezakezula".

Nondik nora erakartzen du hainbeste iseka eta erantzuki, batez ere ortodoxia progrearen aldetik? Plagiatzaile, gezurti, lapur, juduegi, kristauegi, apoegi, zaharra eta txotxintzen hasia, zekena, kapitalista, larregi erretzen du, larregi edaten... Egia da orain bere whiskey propioa ekoizten duela, Heaven’s Door, eta batere txarrak izan ez diren kontzertuetan nabarmen edanda ikusi dugula Euskal Herrian bertan; hori 90eko hamarraldiaren erdialdea baino lehen gertatu zen ordea, seme-alabek zurruta baztertzeko eskatu eta Dylanek amore eman aurretik. Tabakoa uzteko eskatu zioten orobat, baina ez da hain erraza.

Bestalde, apoarenaz gain, badu Dylanen kantaerak leize eta ezkilaren kutsua ere, metralla herdoilduarena; ñabardura leun eta delikatuak halaber. Batzuetan kanta berean biltzen du hori dena, hala nola gure kontzertuko Early Roman Kings-en: “Bihar ostirala; ea zer dakarren; jende guztia ari da hizketan hasierako erromatar erregeez”.

Hirugarren abestia Highway 61 Revisited izan zen. 1905ean Errusiako Tsarrak juduen aurkako jazarpena lagundu zuen, milaka judu hil eta torturatu zituzten, eta Dylanen aiton-amonek Odesatik AEBera ihes egin behar izan zuten. Bob Dylanen bataio-izena Shabtai Zissel ben Avraham da, Abraham izena baitzuen Dylanen aitak, nahiz eta txikigarriaz deitzen zioten, Abe. Dylan nerabeari errabino bat ekartzen zioten New Yorketik, Biblia arretaz irakurri eta interpretatzen laguntzeko. Munta berezia du Apokalipsiak haren iruditerian. Aldiz, “61 Autopista Birbisitatua”k Genesia du oinarri. Halaxe kantatu zigun Aberen semeak: "Oi, Jainkoak Abrahami esan zion ‘hil zure seme bat niretzako’; Abek erantzun ‘txo, adarra jotzen ala?; Jainkoak ezetz; Abek ‘zer?’; Jainkoak ‘egin nahi duzuna, Abe, baina hurrengo aldiz ni ikustean hobe duzu lasterka ateratzea’; Abek ‘non nahi duzu krimen hori egitea?’; Jainkoak ‘kanpoan, 61 autopistan’.”

Bosgarren abestia ez zen Cry A While izan, azken hilabeteetan bezala, baizik eta Dignity, ez zuena 2012az geroztik abesten. Jarraitzaileak txundituta: “Gizon mehea bere azken otorduari begira, duintasunagatik; edonora noala ere, poliziari galdetzen diot ea duintasuna ikusi duen.”

Like A Rolling Stone biziberrituak igo zuen publikoaren entusiasmoa gailurrera. Don’t Think Twice, It’s All Right anbiguoak hunkitu zizkion sakonkien barne-muinak. Honest With Me zakarrak, emanaldiko kanturik ezezagunenak, ausardia ekarri zuen: “Ez naiz damu egin dudan ezertaz. Pozik nago borrokatu nintzelako. Hori bai, nahiago irabazi bagenu.” Soon After Midnight izan zen kontzertuaren bihotza eta talismana. Bat nator putetxeko bezero argala hiltzen dutela dioen irakurketarekin.

Minnesotakoak ez du bere burua kantaren gainetik nabarmentzen; beti jartzen du apalki bere kemena eta arnasa kantaren zerbitzura. Abesti horiek ez dira denbora-pasa hutsa, baizik errepublika aske ikusgaitz batean bizitzeko bidelagunak. Jende askoren bizimodua gobernatzen dute. Dylani gertatzen zaizkion edo ikusten dituen gauza arraroez mintzo dira. Kantara ekarri baino lehen, hausnartu eta bere modura ulertu egin du gertaera edo ikuskizun hori, eta urrutiratu egin da horrenbestez iritzi nagusi eta toki komunetik.

Inork ez zuen dantza egin, nahiz eta Highway 61 Revisited, Dignity, Honest With Me edo Thunder On The Mountain jo zituenean zale batzuk zutitu eta mugimendu eta garrasi idolatrikoak zuzendu zizkioten. Artritisak jota ditu hatzak; ezin gitarra jo, bai haatik pianoa. Behin bakarrik aldendu zen pianotik, emanaldiaren erdialdera, Scarlet Town abesteko. Dylan gizon exotikoa da eta txit ezaguna haren irudia. Hala ere, 2009an atxilotu zuten. Agente gazteak susmoa hartu zion, agure hura, euripean bakarrik txango, ez ote zen ospitale batetik ihes egina. Geldiarazi beharrekoa iruditu zitzaion haren ibilera erraria, Scarlet Town entzuteaz batera kontenplatu ahal izan genuen ibilera musikala: “Jaio nintzen hiri eskarlatan gurasoen mamuen aurka borrokatzen gara; osaba Tomek osaba Billentzako lan egiten du oraindik; laguntza iristen da, baina beranduegi; maitasuna bekatua bada, orduan edertasuna krimena da…”.

Alboan egokitu zitzaidan Hernaniko funtzionarioak ziurtatu zidan Dylanek so egin ziola Pay In Blood-en “zatoz hona, zure buru nazkagarria hautsiko dut” abestu bitartean. Bortizki sentitu omen zuen begi-kontaktua. Infinitua da Dylanen pozoi-hornidura, eta jarraitzaile guztiok nahi dugu pixka bat.

Aretotik gaura irtetean epel eta distiratsu zegoen artean atmosfera.

 

 

Bob Dylan Iruñean eta Barakaldon

Markos Zapiain 2019/04/09 21:55
Kontzertu horietan kantatuko dituen abestiak

Bob Dylanek apirilaren 25ean Iruñean joko du, eta 26an Barakaldon. Honen antza izango du kontzertuak. 2018ko azaroaren 29an grabatu zuten. Bitxia da grabatzaileak berak edo albokoren batek poza adierazteko darabilen “prrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” hori.  Irudiak 11:17tik aurrera ageri dira, baina batzuetan desagertzen dira.

Azken hilabeteetako abesti-zerrenden oso antzekoak izango dira Iruñekoa eta Barakaldokoa. Simple Twist Of Fate, When I Paint My Masterpiece eta Gotta Serve Somebody-n franko aldatu ditu hitzak. Edozein gisaz, eskuarki, mendekua eta gorrotoa nagusi. Zerrendaren ostean dauzkazu letrak.

 

1-Things Have Changed (949 aldiz jo du zuzenean, 2019ko apirilaren 9ra arte)

2-It Ain’t Me, Babe (1039 aldiz)

3-Highway 61 Revisited (1965)

4-Simple Twist Of Fate (749)

5-Cry A While (163)

6-When I Paint My Masterpiece (148)

7-Honest With Me (705)

8-Tryin’ To Get To Heaven ((253)

9-Scarlet Town (317)

10-Make You Feel My Love (280)

11-Pay In Blood ((442)

12-Like A Rolling Stone (2054)

13-Early Roman Kings (463)

14-Don’t Think Twice, It’s All Right (1076)

15-Love Sick (893)

16-Thunder On The Mountain (704)

17-Soon After Midnight (381)

18-Gotta Serve Somebody (469)

Bis bi:

19-Blowin' In The Wind (1564)

20-It Takes A Lot To Laugh, It Takes A Train To Cry (174)

Atzo Pragan hirugarren bis bat erantsi zuen, Just Like Tom Thumb’s Blues, baina soilik instrumentala. Gaur berdin.

 

1-THINGS HAVE CHANGED

A worried man with a worried mind
No one in front of me and nothing behind
There’s a woman on my lap and she’s drinking champagne
Got white skin, got assassin’s eyes
I’m looking up into the sapphire-tinted skies
I’m well dressed, waiting on the last train

Standing on the gallows with my head in a noose
Any minute now I’m expecting all hell to break loose

People are crazy and times are strange
I’m locked in tight, I’m out of range
I used to care, but things have changed

This place ain’t doing me any good
I’m in the wrong town, I should be in Hollywood
Just for a second there I thought I saw something move
Gonna take dancing lessons, do the jitterbug rag
Ain’t no shortcuts, gonna dress in drag
Only a fool in here would think he’s got anything to prove

Lot of water under the bridge, lot of other stuff too
Don’t get up gentlemen, I’m only passing through

People are crazy and times are strange
I’m locked in tight, I’m out of range
I used to care, but things have changed

I’ve been walking forty miles of bad road
If the Bible is right, the world will explode
I’ve been trying to get as far away from myself as I can
Some things are too hot to touch
The human mind can only stand so much
You can’t win with a losing hand

Feel like falling in love with the first woman I meet
Putting her in a wheelbarrow and wheeling her down the street

People are crazy and times are strange
I’m locked in tight, I’m out of range
I used to care, but things have changed

I hurt easy, I just don’t show it
You can hurt someone and not even know it
The next sixty seconds could be like an eternity
Gonna get low down, gonna fly high
All the truth in the world adds up to one big lie
I’m in love with a woman who don’t even appeal to me

Mr. Jinx and Miss Lucy, they jumped in the lake
I’m not that eager to make a mistake

People are crazy and times are strange
I’m locked in tight, I’m out of range
I used to care, but things have changed

 

2-IT AIN’T ME BABE

Go ’way from my window
Leave at your own chosen speed
I’m not the one you want, babe
I’m not the one you need
You say you’re lookin’ for someone
Never weak but always strong
To protect you an’ defend you
Whether you are right or wrong
Someone to open each and every door
But it ain’t me, babe
No, no, no, it ain’t me, babe
It ain’t me you’re lookin’ for, babe

Go lightly from the ledge, babe
Go lightly on the ground
I’m not the one you want, babe
I will only let you down
You say you’re lookin’ for someone
Who will promise never to part
Someone to close his eyes for you
Someone to close his heart
Someone who will die for you an’ more
But it ain’t me, babe
No, no, no, it ain’t me, babe
It ain’t me you’re lookin’ for, babe

Go melt back into the night, babe
Everything inside is made of stone
There’s nothing in here moving
An’ anyway I’m not alone
You say you’re lookin' for someone
Who’ll pick you up each time you fall
To gather flowers constantly
An’ to come each time you call
A lover for your life an’ nothing more
But it ain’t me, babe
No, no, no, it ain’t me, babe
It ain’t me you’re lookin’ for, babe

 

3-HIGHWAY 61 REVISITED

Oh God said to Abraham, “Kill me a son”
Abe says, “Man, you must be puttin’ me on”
God say, “No.” Abe say, “What?”
God say, “You can do what you want Abe, but
The next time you see me comin’ you better run”
Well Abe says, “Where do you want this killin’ done?”
God says, “Out on Highway 61”

Well Georgia Sam he had a bloody nose
Welfare Department they wouldn’t give him no clothes
He asked poor Howard where can I go
Howard said there’s only one place I know
Sam said tell me quick man I got to run
Ol’ Howard just pointed with his gun
And said that way down on Highway 61

Well Mack the Finger said to Louie the King
I got forty red, white and blue shoestrings
And a thousand telephones that don’t ring
Do you know where I can get rid of these things
And Louie the King said let me think for a minute son
And he said yes I think it can be easily done
Just take everything down to Highway 61

Now the fifth daughter on the twelfth night
Told the first father that things weren’t right
My complexion she said is much too white
He said come here and step into the light, he says hmm you’re right
Let me tell the second mother this has been done
But the second mother was with the seventh son
And they were both out on Highway 61

Now the rovin’ gambler he was very bored
He was tryin’ to create a next world war
He found a promoter who nearly fell off the floor
He said I never engaged in this kind of thing before
But yes I think it can be very easily done
We’ll just put some bleachers out in the sun
And have it on Highway 61

 

4-SIMPLE TWIST OF FATE

They sat together in the park
As the evening sky grew dark
She looked at him and he felt a spark tingle to his bones
’Twas then he felt alone and wished that he’d gone straight
And watched out for a simple twist of fate

They walked along by the old canal
A little confused, I remember well
And stopped into a strange hotel with a neon burnin’ bright
He felt the heat of the night hit him like a freight train
Moving with a simple twist of fate

A saxophone someplace far off played
As she was walkin’ by the arcade
As the light bust through a beat-up shade where he was wakin’ up,
She dropped a coin into the cup of a blind man at the gate
And forgot about a simple twist of fate

He woke up, the room was bare
He didn’t see her anywhere
He told himself he didn’t care, pushed the window open wide
Felt an emptiness inside to which he just could not relate
Brought on by a simple twist of fate

He hears the ticking of the clocks
And walks along with a parrot that talks
Hunts her down by the waterfront docks where the sailors all come in
Maybe she’ll pick him out again, how long must he wait
Once more for a simple twist of fate

People tell me it’s a sin
To know and feel too much within
I still believe she was my twin, but I lost the ring
She was born in spring, but I was born too late
Blame it on a simple twist of fate

 

5-CRY A WHILE

Well, I had to go down and see a guy named Mr. Goldsmith
A nasty, dirty, double-crossin’, backstabbin’ phony I didn’t wanna have to be dealin’ with
But I did it for you and all you gave me was a smile
Well, I cried for you—now it’s your turn to cry awhile

I don’t carry deadweight—I’m no flash in the pan
All right, I’ll set you straight, can’t you see I’m a union man?
I’m lettin’ the cat out of the cage, I’m keeping a low profile
Well, I cried for you—now it’s your turn, you can cry awhile

Feel like a fighting rooster—feel better than I ever felt
But the Pennsylvania line’s in an awful mess and the Denver road is about to melt
I went to the church house, every day I go an extra mile
Well, I cried for you—now it’s your turn, you can cry awhile

Last night ’cross the alley there was a pounding on the walls
It must have been Don Pasqualli makin’ a two A.M. booty call
To break a trusting heart like mine was just your style
Well, I cried for you—now it’s your turn to cry awhile

I’m on the fringes of the night, fighting back tears that I can’t control
Some people they ain’t human, they got no heart or soul
Well, I’m crying to the Lord—I’m tryin’ to be meek and mild
Yes, I cried for you—now it’s your turn, you can cry awhile

Well, there’s preachers in the pulpits and babies in the cribs
I’m longin’ for that sweet fat that sticks to your ribs
I’m gonna buy me a barrel of whiskey—I’ll die before I turn senile
Well, I cried for you—now it’s your turn, you can cry awhile

Well, you bet on a horse and it ran on the wrong way
I always said you’d be sorry and today could be the day
I might need a good lawyer, could be your funeral, my trial
Well, I cried for you, now it’s your turn, you can cry awhile

 

6-WHEN I PAINT MY MASTERPIECE

Oh, the streets of Rome are filled with rubble
Ancient footprints are everywhere
You can almost think that you’re seein’ double
On a cold, dark night on the Spanish Stairs
Got to hurry on back to my hotel room
Where I’ve got me a date with Botticelli’s niece
She promised that she’d be right there with me
When I paint my masterpiece

Oh, the hours I’ve spent inside the Coliseum
Dodging lions and wastin’ time
Oh, those mighty kings of the jungle, I could hardly stand to see ’em
Yes, it sure has been a long, hard climb
Train wheels runnin’ through the back of my memory
When I ran on the hilltop following a pack of wild geese
Someday, everything is gonna be smooth like a rhapsody
When I paint my masterpiece

Sailin’ round the world in a dirty gondola
Oh, to be back in the land of Coca-Cola!

I left Rome and landed in Brussels
On a plane ride so bumpy that I almost cried
Clergymen in uniform and young girls pullin’ muscles
Everyone was there to greet me when I stepped inside
Newspapermen eating candy
Had to be held down by big police
Someday, everything is gonna be diff’rent
When I paint my masterpiece

 

7-HONEST WITH ME

Well, I’m stranded in the city that never sleeps
Some of these women they just give me the creeps
I’m avoidin’ the Southside the best I can
These memories I got, they can strangle a man

Well I came ashore in the dead of the night
Lot of things can get in the way when you’re tryin’ to do what’s right
You don’t understand it—my feelings for you
You’d be honest with me if only you knew

I’m not sorry for nothin’ I’ve done
I’m glad I fought—I only wish we’d won
The Siamese twins are comin’ to town
People can’t wait—they’re gathered around

When I left my home the sky split open wide
I never wanted to go back there—I’d rather have died
You don’t understand it—my feelings for you
You’d be honest with me if only you knew

My woman got a face like a teddy bear
She’s tossin’ a baseball bat in the air
The meat is so tough you can’t cut it with a sword
I’m crashin’ my car, trunk first into the boards

You say my eyes are pretty and my smile is nice
Well, I’ll sell it to ya at a reduced price
You don’t understand it—my feelings for you
You’d be honest with me, if only you knew

Some things are too terrible to be true
I won’t come here no more if it bothers you
The Southern Pacific leaving me at nine forty-five
I’m having a hard time believin’ some people were ever alive

I’m stark naked, but I don’t care
I’m going off into the woods, I’m huntin’ bare
You don’t understand it—my feelings for you
Well, you’d be honest with me if only you knew

I’m here to create the new imperial empire
I’m going to do whatever circumstances require
I care so much for you—didn’t think that I could
I can’t tell my heart that you’re no good

Well, my parents they warned me not to waste my years
And I still got their advice oozing out of my ears
You don’t understand it—my feelings for you
Well, you’d be honest with me if only you knew

 

8-TRYIN’ TO GET TO HEAVEN

The air is getting hotter
There’s a rumbling in the skies
I’ve been wading through the high muddy water
With the heat rising in my eyes
Every day your memory grows dimmer
It doesn’t haunt me like it did before
I’ve been walking through the middle of nowhere
Trying to get to heaven before they close the door

When I was in Missouri
They would not let me be
I had to leave there in a hurry
I only saw what they let me see
You broke a heart that loved you
Now you can seal up the book and not write anymore
I’ve been walking that lonesome valley
Trying to get to heaven before they close the door

People on the platforms
Waiting for the trains
I can hear their hearts a-beatin’
Like pendulums swinging on chains
I tried to give you everything
That your heart was longing for
I’m just going down the road feeling bad
Trying to get to heaven before they close the door

I’m going down the river
Down to New Orleans
They tell me everything is gonna be all right
But I don’t know what “all right” even means
I was riding in a buggy with Miss Mary-Jane
Miss Mary-Jane got a house in Baltimore
I been all around the world, boys
Now I’m trying to get to heaven before they close the door

Gonna sleep down in the parlor
And relive my dreams
I’ll close my eyes and I wonder
If everything is as hollow as it seems
Some trains don't pull no gamblers
No midnight ramblers like they did before
I been to Sugar Town, I shook the sugar down
Now I’m trying to get to heaven before they close the door

 

9-SCARLET TOWN


In Scarlet Town where I was born
There’s ivy leaf and silver thorn
The streets have names you can’t pronounce
Gold is down to a quarter of an ounce

The music starts and the people sway
Everybody says, are you going my way?
Uncle Tom still working for Uncle Bill
Scarlet town is under the hill

Scarlet Town in the month of May
Sweet William on his deathbed lay
Mistress Mary by the side of the bed
Kissing his face, heaping prayers on his head

So brave, so true, so gentle is he
I’ll weep for him as he’d weep for me
Little Boy Blue come blow your horn
In Scarlet Town where I was born

Scarlet Town in the hot noon hours
There’s palm leaf shadows and scattered flowers
Beggars crouching at the gate
Help comes but it comes too late

On marble slabs and in fields of stone
You make your humble wishes known
I touched the garment but the hem was torn
In Scarlet Town where I was born

In Scarlet Town the end is near
The seven wonders of the world are here
The evil and the good living side by side
All human forms seem glorified

Put your heart on a platter and see who’ll bite
See who’ll hold you and kiss you good night
There’s walnut groves and maple wood
In Scarlet town crying won’t do you no good

In Scarlet Town you fight your father’s foes
Up on the hill a chilly wind blows
You fight ‘em on high and you fight ‘em down in
You fight ‘em with whisky, morphine and gin

You got legs that can drive men mad
A lot of things we didn’t do that I wish we had
In Scarlet Town the sky is clear
You'll wish to God that you stayed right here

Set ‘em up Joe, play Walking The Floor
Play it for my flat chested junky whore
I’m staying up late and I’m making amends
While the smile of heaven descends

If love is a sin then beauty is a crime
All things are beautiful in their time
The black and the white, the yellow and the brown
It’s all right there for ya in Scarlet Town

 

10-MAKE YOU FEEL MY LOVE

When the rain is blowing in your face
And the whole world is on your case
I could offer you a warm embrace
To make you feel my love

When the evening shadows and the stars appear
And there is no one there to dry your tears
I could hold you for a million years
To make you feel my love

I know you haven’t made your mind up yet
But I would never do you wrong
I’ve known it from the moment that we met
No doubt in my mind where you belong

I’d go hungry, I’d go black and blue
I’d go crawling down the avenue
There’s nothing that I wouldn’t do
To make you feel my love

The storms are raging on the rollin’ sea
And on the highway of regret
The winds of change are blowing wild and free
You ain’t seen nothing like me yet

I could make you happy, make your dreams come true
Nothing that I wouldn’t do
Go to the ends of the earth for you
To make you feel my love

 

 

11-PAY IN BLOOD

 

Well I`m grinding my life away, steady and sure
Nothing more wretched than what I must endure
I`m drenched in the light that shines from the sun
I could stone you to death for the wrongs that you done

Sooner or later you`ll make a mistake
I`ll put you in a chain that you never can break
Legs and arms and body and bone
I pay in blood, but not my own

Night after night, day after day,
They strip your useless hopes away
The more I take, the more I give,
The more I die, the more I live,

I got something in my pocket make your eyeballs swim
I got dogs that could tear you limb to limb
I`m circling around in the southern zone
I pay in blood, but not my own

Another political pumping out his piss,
Another ragged beggar blowin’ ya a kiss
Life is short and it don’t last long
They`ll hang you in the morning and sing ya a song

Someone must have slipped a drug in your wine
You gulped it down and you lost your mind
My head so hard, it must be made of stone
I pay in blood, but not my own

How I made it back home nobody knows ,
Or how I survived so many blows
I been through hell what good did it do,
My conscience is clear, what about you

I’ll give you justice, I’ll fatten your purse
Show me your moral virtues first
Hear me holler hear me moan
I pay in blood but not my own

You bit your lover in the bed,
Come here I`ll break your lousy head
Our nation must be saved and freed
You been accused of murder, how do you plead?

This is how I spend my days
I came to bury not to praise
I`ll drink my fill and sleep alone
I pay in blood, but not my own

 

 

12-LIKE A ROLLING STONE

 

Once upon a time you dressed so fine
You threw the bums a dime in your prime, didn’t you?
People’d call, say, “Beware doll, you’re bound to fall”
You thought they were all kiddin’ you
You used to laugh about
Everybody that was hangin’ out
Now you don’t talk so loud
Now you don’t seem so proud
About having to be scrounging for your next meal

How does it feel
How does it feel
To be without a home
Like a complete unknown
Like a rolling stone?

You’ve gone to the finest school all right, Miss Lonely
But you know you only used to get juiced in it
And nobody has ever taught you how to live on the street
And now you find out you’re gonna have to get used to it
You said you’d never compromise
With the mystery tramp, but now you realize
He’s not selling any alibis
As you stare into the vacuum of his eyes
And ask him do you want to make a deal?

How does it feel
How does it feel
To be on your own
With no direction home
Like a complete unknown
Like a rolling stone?

You never turned around to see the frowns on the jugglers and the clowns
When they all come down and did tricks for you
You never understood that it ain’t no good
You shouldn’t let other people get your kicks for you
You used to ride on the chrome horse with your diplomat
Who carried on his shoulder a Siamese cat
Ain’t it hard when you discover that
He really wasn’t where it’s at
After he took from you everything he could steal

How does it feel
How does it feel
To be on your own
With no direction home
Like a complete unknown
Like a rolling stone?

Princess on the steeple and all the pretty people
They’re drinkin’, thinkin’ that they got it made
Exchanging all kinds of precious gifts and things
But you’d better lift your diamond ring, you’d better pawn it babe
You used to be so amused
At Napoleon in rags and the language that he used
Go to him now, he calls you, you can’t refuse
When you got nothing, you got nothing to lose
You’re invisible now, you got no secrets to conceal

How does it feel
How does it feel
To be on your own
With no direction home
Like a complete unknown
Like a rolling stone?

 

 

13-EARLY ROMAN KINGS

 

All the early Roman Kings in their sharkskin suits
Bowties and buttons, high top boots
Driving the spikes in, blazing the rails
Nailed in their coffins in top hats and tails
Fly away little bird, fly away, flap your wings
Fly by night like the early Roman Kings

All the early Roman Kings in the early, early morn’
Coming down the mountain, distributing the corn
Speeding through the forest, racing down the track
You try to get away, they drag you back
Tomorrow is Friday, we’ll see what it brings
Everybody’s talking ‘bout the early Roman Kings

They’re peddlers and they’re meddlers, they buy and they sell
They destroyed your city, they’ll destroy you as well
They’re lecherous and treacherous, hell bent for leather
Each of them bigger than all men put together
Sluggers and muggers wearing fancy gold rings
All the women going crazy for the early Roman Kings

I'll dress up your wounds with a blood clotted rag
I ain’t afraid to make love to a bitch or a hag
If you see me coming and you’re standing there
Wave your handkerchief in the air
I ain’t dead yet, my bell still rings
I keep my fingers crossed like the early Roman Kings

I'll strip you of life, strip you of breath
Ship you down to the house of death
One day you will ask for me
There’ll be no one else that you’ll want to see
Bring down my fiddle, tune up my strings
Gonna break it wide open like the early Roman Kings

I was up on black mountain the day Detroit fell
They killed them all off and they sent them to hell
Ding Dong Daddy, you’re coming up short
Gonna put you on trial in a Sicilian court
I’ve had my fun, I’ve had my flings
Gonna shake ‘em all down like the early Roman Kings

 

 

14-DON’T THINK TWICE, IT’S ALL RIGHT

 

It ain’t no use to sit and wonder why, babe
It don’t matter, anyhow
An’ it ain’t no use to sit and wonder why, babe
If you don’t know by now
When your rooster crows at the break of dawn
Look out your window and I’ll be gone
You’re the reason I’m trav’lin’ on
Don’t think twice, it’s all right

It ain’t no use in turnin’ on your light, babe
That light I never knowed
An’ it ain’t no use in turnin’ on your light, babe
I’m on the dark side of the road
Still I wish there was somethin’ you would do or say
To try and make me change my mind and stay
We never did too much talkin’ anyway
So don’t think twice, it’s all right

It ain’t no use in callin’ out my name, gal
Like you never did before
It ain’t no use in callin’ out my name, gal
I can’t hear you anymore
I’m a-thinkin’ and a-wond’rin’ all the way down the road
I once loved a woman, a child I’m told
I give her my heart but she wanted my soul
But don’t think twice, it’s all right

I’m walkin’ down that long, lonesome road, babe
Where I’m bound, I can’t tell
But goodbye’s too good a word, gal
So I’ll just say fare thee well
I ain’t sayin’ you treated me unkind
You could have done better but I don’t mind
You just kinda wasted my precious time
But don’t think twice, it’s all right

 

 

15-LOVE SICK

 

I’m walking through streets that are dead
Walking, walking with you in my head
My feet are so tired, my brain is so wired
And the clouds are weeping

Did I hear someone tell a lie?
Did I hear someone’s distant cry?
I spoke like a child; you destroyed me with a smile
While I was sleeping

I’m sick of love but I’m in the thick of it
This kind of love I’m so sick of it

I see, I see lovers in the meadow
I see, I see silhouettes in the window
I watch them ’til they’re gone and they leave me hanging on
To a shadow

I’m sick of love; I hear the clock tick
This kind of love; I’m love sick

Sometimes the silence can be like the thunder
Sometimes I feel like I’m being plowed under
Could you ever be true? I think of you
And I wonder

I’m sick of love; I wish I’d never met you
I’m sick of love; I’m trying to forget you

Just don’t know what to do
I’d give anything to be with you

 

 

16-THUNDER ON THE MOUNTAIN

 

Thunder on the mountain, fires on the moon
There's a ruckus in the alley and the sun will be here soon
Today's the day, gonna grab my trombone and blow
Well, there's hot stuff here and it's everywhere I go

I was thinkin' 'bout Alicia Keys, couldn't keep from crying
When she was born in Hell's Kitchen, I was living down the line
I'm wondering where in the world Alicia Keys could be
I been looking for her even clear through Tennessee

Feel like my soul is beginning to expand
Look into my heart and you will sort of understand
You brought me here, now you're trying to run me away
The writing's on the wall, come read it, come see what it say

Thunder on the mountain, rolling like a drum
Gonna sleep over there, that's where the music coming from
I don't need any guide, I already know the way
Remember this, I'm your servant both night and day

The pistols are poppin' and the power is down
I'd like to try somethin' but I'm so far from town
The sun keeps shinin' and the North Wind keeps picking up speed
Gonna forget about myself for a while, gonna go out and see what others need

I've been sitting down studying the art of love
I think it will fit me like a glove
I want some real good woman to do just what I say
Everybody got to wonder what's the matter with this cruel world today

Thunder on the mountain rolling to the ground
Gonna get up in the morning walk the hard road down
Some sweet day I'll stand beside my king
I wouldn't betray your love or any other thing

Gonna raise me an army, some tough sons of bitches
I'll recruit my army from the orphanages
I been to St. Herman's church and I've said my religious vows
I've sucked the milk out of a thousand cows

I got the porkchops, she got the pie
She ain't no angel and neither am I
Shame on your greed, shame on your wicked schemes
I'll say this, I don't give a damn about your dreams

Thunder on the mountain heavy as can be
Mean old twister bearing down on me
All the ladies of Washington scrambling to get out of town
Looks like something bad gonna happen, better roll your airplane down

Everybody's going and I want to go too
Don't wanna take a chance with somebody new
I did all I could and I did it right there and then
I've already confessed – no need to confess again

Gonna make a lot of money, gonna go up north
I'll plant and I'll harvest what the earth brings forth
The hammer's on the table, the pitchfork's on the shelf
For the love of God, you ought to take pity on yourself

 

 

17-SOON AFTER MIDNIGHT

 

I’m searching for phrases to sing your praises
I need to tell someone
It’s soon after midnight and my day has just begun

A gal named Honey took my money
She was passing by
It’s soon after midnight and the moon is in my eye

My heart is cheerful, it’s never fearful
I been down on the killing floors
I’m in no great hurry, I’m not afraid of your fury
I've faced stronger walls than yours

Charlotte’s a harlot, dresses in scarlet
Mary dresses in green
It’s soon after midnight and I’ve got a date with a fairy queen

They chirp and they chatter, what does it matter
They’re lying there dying in their blood
Two Timing Slim, who’s ever heard of him
I’ll drag his corpse through the mud

It’s now or never, more than ever
When I met you I didn’t think you would do
It’s soon after midnight and I don’t want nobody but you

 

 

18-GOTTA SERVE SOMEBODY

 

You may be an ambassador to England or France
You may like to gamble, you might like to dance
You may be the heavyweight champion of the world
You may be a socialite with a long string of pearls

But you’re gonna have to serve somebody, yes indeed
You’re gonna have to serve somebody
Well, it may be the devil or it may be the Lord
But you’re gonna have to serve somebody

You might be a rock ’n’ roll addict prancing on the stage
You might have drugs at your command, women in a cage
You may be a businessman or some high-degree thief
They may call you Doctor or they may call you Chief

But you’re gonna have to serve somebody, yes indeed
You’re gonna have to serve somebody
Well, it may be the devil or it may be the Lord
But you’re gonna have to serve somebody

You may be a state trooper, you might be a young Turk
You may be the head of some big TV network
You may be rich or poor, you may be blind or lame
You may be living in another country under another name

But you’re gonna have to serve somebody, yes indeed
You’re gonna have to serve somebody
Well, it may be the devil or it may be the Lord
But you’re gonna have to serve somebody

You may be a construction worker working on a home
You may be living in a mansion or you might live in a dome
You might own guns and you might even own tanks
You might be somebody’s landlord, you might even own banks

But you’re gonna have to serve somebody, yes indeed
You’re gonna have to serve somebody
Well, it may be the devil or it may be the Lord
But you’re gonna have to serve somebody

You may be a preacher with your spiritual pride
You may be a city councilman taking bribes on the side
You may be workin’ in a barbershop, you may know how to cut hair
You may be somebody’s mistress, may be somebody’s heir

But you’re gonna have to serve somebody, yes indeed
You’re gonna have to serve somebody
Well, it may be the devil or it may be the Lord
But you’re gonna have to serve somebody

Might like to wear cotton, might like to wear silk
Might like to drink whiskey, might like to drink milk
You might like to eat caviar, you might like to eat bread
You may be sleeping on the floor, sleeping in a king-sized bed

But you’re gonna have to serve somebody, yes indeed
You’re gonna have to serve somebody
Well, it may be the devil or it may be the Lord
But you’re gonna have to serve somebody

You may call me Terry, you may call me Timmy
You may call me Bobby, you may call me Zimmy
You may call me R.J., you may call me Ray
You may call me anything but no matter what you say

You’re gonna have to serve somebody, yes indeed
You’re gonna have to serve somebody
Well, it may be the devil or it may be the Lord
But you’re gonna have to serve somebody

  

19-BLOWIN’ IN THE WIND

How many roads must a man walk down

Before you call him a man?

Yes, ’n’ how many seas must a white dove sail
Before she sleeps in the sand?
Yes, ’n’ how many times must the cannonballs fly
Before they’re forever banned?
The answer, my friend, is blowin’ in the wind
The answer is blowin’ in the wind

How many years can a mountain exist
Before it’s washed to the sea?
Yes, ’n’ how many years can some people exist
Before they’re allowed to be free?
Yes, ’n’ how many times can a man turn his head
Pretending he just doesn’t see?
The answer, my friend, is blowin’ in the wind
The answer is blowin’ in the wind

How many times must a man look up
Before he can see the sky?
Yes, ’n’ how many ears must one man have
Before he can hear people cry?
Yes, ’n’ how many deaths will it take till he knows
That too many people have died?
The answer, my friend, is blowin’ in the wind
The answer is blowin’ in the wind

 

20-IT TAKES A LOT TO LAUGH, IT TAKES A TRAIN TO CRY

Well, I ride on a mailtrain, baby

Can’t buy a thrill
Well, I’ve been up all night, baby
Leanin’ on the windowsill
Well, if I die
On top of the hill
And if I don’t make it
You know my baby will

Don’t the moon look good, mama
Shinin’ through the trees?
Don’t the brakeman look good, mama
Flagging down the “Double E?”
Don’t the sun look good
Goin’ down over the sea?
Don’t my gal look fine
When she’s comin’ after me?

Now the wintertime is coming
The windows are filled with frost
I went to tell everybody
But I could not get across
Well, I wanna be your lover, baby
I don’t wanna be your boss
Don’t say I never warned you
When your train gets lost

 

 

 

Aurkezpena

Markos Zapiain

1963an jaio nintzen. Markos Zapiain naiz ia beti. Baina ez zidaten soldaduzka egiten utzi, nortasun bikoitza dela eta. Batzutan Pelipe pizten da ene baitan. Pozik ibiltzen da oro har Pelipe. Baina haserretzen denean, kontuz.