Casino Royal: Music

• MP3 short clip, hi-fi play (broadband)
• MP3 short clip, lo-fi play (modem)

THIS CHILLY LAND
Hmmm, It´s so cold outside,
the air is frozen,
climate has reached its point of no return

Mob is rushing, yearning for meat and heat
while famine has finally reached its peak

Have my hands cling sharply to my beloved stuff
in a quite short time, they´ll get them around

So, James Joyce, I adore you,
Bernard Shaw, I love you so much
Oscar Wilde, I´ve got you deep in my mind

Thomas B., Moravia, Pirandello, Passolini
without you I couldn´t survive, that´s why I learned you all by heart,

Not to feel the iceness, and not to be alone.
Not to feel the iceness in this land

Well some contemporaries may not feel the heat
that my hereos could radiate
They suffer of the cold, run out of fuel again
They are waiting for their guides to tell them where to haunt

For my beloved stuff, appeassing their starvation
´cause who prefers to eat in a non-heated room !?

Yes should they burn, well, should they return
to times of heat, to times of meat.
I don´t care at all!! I don´t give a shit!!

Take my prints, heat your rooms.
Middle class morality
claims again its victims

You´ll never change my attitude
I´ll never become one of you
You´ll never change my attitude
I´ll never become one of you

Shit on your post-honour
Give him respect, as he´s already dead
Fullfill his last will, have him rest in peace

You hypocrits!!