Anna,
In view of the not so overwhelming popularity of our experimental writing so far, I thought I would just write you now. It all started with me laughing my eyes out over your emails anyway and thinking someone else should read this.
This still technically being a blog and all, I would like to promote our new hero, a first act of groupy-ism. Not only will Terry jam the night away, he will teach you a truth or two and will sing don't go, don't don't go when your date is leaving.
So, dear millions of readers out there, check out Bourbon Street, a club so steamy Westlife was having their beers there yesterday night. Well, honestly, Youp van 't Hek also showed up and was an easier blend with crowd. But you may bump into us, you see.
Hugs & kisses, chica, I had a great time.
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3 comments:
Cheers to that, and to finding our anthem, Holiday in Spain:
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Ik kan nergens heen
Maar in het zuiden wacht een vrouw nog steeds op mij alleen
Ze heeft flessen vol tequila en flessen vol gin
En dan neem ik mijn gitaar mee en mijn gouden ring
Er zijn vleigtuigstoelen, miljoenen bijbedoelingen en bovendien
Zijn er limousines, en er zijn leugens over sterren die we toch niet zien.
Misschien, neem ik Spanje als besluit
En laat mijn schepen achter
Ik ga er stiekem tussenuit
Een vluchtweg naar een nieuw begin
Well, Hop on my choo-choo
I'll be your engine driver in a bunny suit
If you dress me up in pink and white
We may just be a little fuzzy 'bout it later tonight
She's my angel
She's just a little better than the one that used to be with me
Cause she liked to scream at me
Man, it's a miracle that she's not living up in a tree
I may, Take a holiday to Spain,
And leave my wings behind me
Drive this girl insane
Fly away to someone new
Everybody's gone,
They left the television screaming that the radio's on
M'n schoenen zijn gejat,
Maar ik hoef niet meer naar buiten want er is nog wel wat
Well happy new year's baby
We could probably fix it is we clean it up all day
Or we could simply pack our bags
En gaan meteen naar Barcelona want we moeten hier weg.
Misschien, Neem ik Spanje als besluit
(Making the best of all that's left to me)
En laat mijn schepen achter
(All of the lines she said)
Ik ga er stiekem tussenuit
(Just seem to break me in two)
Een vluchtweg naar een nieuw begin
Ik neem Spanje als besluit
(Most of the time rewinding the lines)
En laat mijn schepen achter
(I'm taking a day to get out of the way)
Ik ga er stiekem tussenuit
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I have in the meantime been left by the Spanish, in a deja vu of that ancient victory which left us with nothing but hutspot (a mashed potato dish). What can we do about it? Continue, go on, keep moving, look back only to make sure you're not losing your shadow. Be in the sun. Bask in the rain. If necessary, cry, rinse, repeat.
Love to you pieces
reverse you & to
Love to you pieces too
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