Tag Archive: background music


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Guess who I’m drivin’ home tonight?😏

Ti, wait for me baby!

We are coming to get you me and the Chevrolet darling!!! 😎

Almost forgot…I have the leather jeans on and I know I’m getting it tonight. 💪

I’m not telling how but I found and I’m actually listening to the instrumental of Lana Del Rey’s ‘Lust for Life’.
This is the best night of 2018 so far…because I went straight for the Heroin and White Mustang tracks and it’s Sapphire Blue all over again.

With the heat, the descending sunrise glinting over the mustang, sweet smelling air, tropical fruit roasting and that “incredible” electric hammond in the end.

I will only say it once.

It’s almost psychedelic and holy fucking shit summer’s here again thanks to the contralto darling.

I’m flying to the moon again
Dreaming of that marzipan
Takin’ all my medicine
To take my thoughts away

There are times I scream while driving.
The need overpowers all my common manners, overpowers the eight Kenwood speakers audio system.
The Chevrolet purrs under my feet in a primal answer to the anger.
Because it’s a long while ago I took my loved bike for a ride.
I had enough of about everything currently around me.
I’m itching for a fight.
La valvola di sfogo diventa l’umido nastro nero illuminato dai fari lunghi della mia tesora.
We run like bullets.
The soft mist lacerated by the sheer force of the engine as the speed goes up.
Me smiling when the indicator hits the two-hundred mark and the only thing i hear is the roar.
I think I shall be home before breakfast Ti, remember to add a cup for me, please.

Why does my heartbeat feel like a speaker?
Feeding back…
Repeater, repeater!

You know what I truly like?

To drive my massive car softly.

The engine warms very slow in cold winter days such as these.

I almost feel the moment the motor oil starts to be less dense, flowing faster and the slight vibration of the pistons cease.

My big purring baby when the temperature is just right and I finally open the gas and she growls eating the asphalt away a fraction of second later.

The horsepower that makes me smirk evilly.

This morning me and her….makin’ sweet love.

Adesso sapete anche perché molti di miei personaggi sono patiti di bolidi. Sí, venderei la mia anima x un nuovo carburatore proprio come Roger Taylor…sigh…peccato che la mia abbia l’iniezione elettronica!

I feel love every million miles
I feel love every once in a while…

Passare il sabato sera davanti al caminetto con un dito di cognac vecchio di trent’anni, l’aroma del sigaro di Ti nell’aria, un buon match di poker, il mio buzzurro che mi lancia sguardi dall’altro lato del divano e la Piaf che canta nell’angolo buio della sala, sotto le finestre.
Right now he’s gone to get the profiteroles from the fridge and this is priceless…
Quanto ci scommettiamo che tra un’oretta passeremo allo strip poker? 😏

Songs of the…weekend

How your fields so green can whisper tales of gore…

Ho giusto 2 orette libere oggi e domani sono in piena modalità weekend prima che arrivi Ti…e so anche cosa fare!!! 😏

Stasera UT subirà un pochetto di modifiche a suon di Woodstock in my mind! XD

And I never minded being on my own
Then something broke in me
and I wanted to go home
To be where you are
But even closer to you
You seem so very far

And now I’m reaching out
with every note I sing
And I hope it gets to you
on some Pacific wind
Wraps itself around you
and whispers in your ear
Tells you that I miss you
and I wish that you were here

And I’m feeling kind of selfish
Cause I’m just flying home
I’ve been busy on your island
Just having my own fun


Some days I’m myself.
Other days there’s a filter.
Or anger.
Or fake smiles.
Or brutal honesty.
Or the look that tells you to shut up and take your ass far far away from me.
Then there is my depressive mode and in those days I’m not myself.
I can be moulded and suppressed.
And the stories become true.
I write the worlds deep beneath the oil, the slickest the best.
The kind of dirt that sticks permanently under your nails.
Petroleum is the river.

I’ll always be a chrysalis, saving my colours for a better, sunnier day.
In summer I shall sleep in the darkness of my homeward woods, lulled by the cries of the prey.
Shadows and shades of green, peaceful slumber for a never-would-be butterfly.

In winter ego is the furnace of my worlds.
I write to shape them, countless rules bound to my imagination.
I am living hundreds of years just by finding the best path to turn on.
From night to morning, stoking up the flames.
Never once lonely, always thrilled by the chase for perfection.

Still I am the orchid that will blossom but never flower, untouched by time.
In wintry silence the blooms will dry up and fall, nourish the soil where I took root.
I don’t need many things to survive but the ones I consider vital I shall always protect.

I hear the marching flood.
I still fear the black irate waters in my dreams.
But now, like that damned river, I found my sea.
This year the strand is nearer and someday I will return ashore.
Of steel will be my veins and pleasant I shall be no more.

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