Multiplication Table 100 X100 Chart

The Ballad of Peter Valpreda

still remember all those times,

played in the square,

between houses, buildings,

we loved the terrace,

we loved each other crazy.

still remembers, even now that they are dead ...

My roam is a tired

walk a very repeated

back and forth between the gray or white

departure or destination, a place small

Within these walls yellow and rotten

my heart is dry labor

our lives now sour.

Not even the sun takes away the darkness.

He finally part

I hope from here I already departing

but perhaps had not yet enough

now here you just want to die.

do not think I know where

my pace is monotonous and dull

it may be that of a cell;

maybe it's just the madness of my brains.

still remember all the times, played in
square
between houses, buildings,
we loved the terrace,
we loved each other crazy.
still remembers, even now that they are dead ...

was the day of the two times twelve

I, dancer, not looking for no gain

three days later according to our medical

I confess, it is you killed a comrade;

we talked about suitcase bombs and my

that someone saw me in Piazza Fontana.

"He was, it was a bomb, and so be it,"

said to me poor son of a bitch.

son of a liberated woman

you saw oppressed for centuries and gentlemen

and even now the man who has driven dictators

has been seen by his son divorced .

go by minutes, hours, days

Out here the atomic blur the boundaries,

but it seems to have stopped time

and there is only my eternal cramp.

still remember all those Sometimes
played in the square,
between houses, buildings,
we loved the terrace,
we loved each other crazy.
still remembers, even now that they are dead ...

My Mother, My only real mother

who gave me this life beggar

robbing middle-class families and thieves

you alone , has made me clean the inside.

not whine like an old, ugly, pathetic and

consumptive on my deathbed

not bear in my eyes your face pale

pain that gives the bar to my door.

Listen, you who can, degl'augelli singing

think of me when I was still dancing

remember, happy, me, to what

fought for you and the right path

And finally, may you morirti with me

that watch over you, a son

and I can always keep you in

My red heart vermilion.

still remember all the times, played in
square
between houses, buildings,
we loved the terrace,
we loved each other crazy.
still remembers, even now that they are dead ...

in my filthy room, the dark controls.

Does death have to enter question?

walk again and hitting the wall

and my nose is broken as my future

I try to talk to you again, my sweet beloved

not answer: do you die while you run to

I beg you to shout at me again your voice

like a river throughout its s'urla mouth

I remember the forest of flags

where we have long loved shameless

Now I find those nights ... more

probably will finish here, among the hanged.

My pace slows again

the way I still can not find it.

And if there was only a lie,

and freedom and truth for those who craves?

still remember all the times, played in
square
between houses, buildings,
we loved the terrace,
we loved each other crazy.
But you ... you were not real, my sweet

ideal ...

Carlo Guassone

Why Gangs In America Are Bad

strategy of tension

strategy of tension, so I call the demo I'm recording, creating and working with some of my fellow students who also dabble in the art of music.
For now there is nothing else to add.