Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Thanx 4 Nothing, artist - Noël Akchoté. Album song Toi-Même, in the genre Джаз
Date of issue: 30.10.2008
Record label: Winter & Winter
Song language: English
Thanx 4 Nothing |
I want to give my thanks to everyone for everything, |
and as a token of my appreciation, |
I want to offer back to you all my good and bad habits |
as magnificent priceless jewels, |
wish-fulfilling gems satisfying everything you need and want, |
thank you, thank you, thank you, |
thanks. |
May every drug I ever took |
come back and get you high, |
may every glass of vodka and wine I’ve drunk |
come back and make you feel really good, |
numbing your nerve ends |
allowing the natural clarity of your mind to flow free, |
may all the suicides be songs of aspiration, |
thanks that bad news is always true, |
may all the chocolate I ever eaten |
come back rushing through your bloodstream |
and make you feel happy, |
thanks for allowing me to be a poet |
a noble effort, doomed, but the only choice. |
I want to thank you for your kindness and praise, |
thanks for celebrating me, |
thanks for the resounding applause, |
I want to thank you for taking everything for yourself |
and giving nothing back, |
you were always only self-serving, |
thanks for exploiting my big ego |
and making me a star for your own benefit, |
thanks that you never paid me, |
thanks for all the sleaze, |
thanks for being mean and rude |
and smiling at my face, |
I am happy that you robbed me, |
I am happy that you lied |
I am happy that you helped me, |
thanks, grazie, merci beaucoup. |
May you smoke a joint with William, |
and spend intimate time with his mind, |
more profound than any book he wrote, |
I give enormous thanks to all my lovers, |
beautiful men with brilliant minds, |
great artists, |
Bob, Jasper, Ugo, |
may they come here now |
and make love to you, |
and may my many other lovers |
of totally great sex, |
countless lovers |
of boundless fabulous sex |
countless lovers of boundless fabulous sex |
countless lovers of boundless |
fabulous sex |
in the golden age |
of promiscuity |
may they all come here now, |
and make love to you, |
if you want, |
may each of them |
hold each of you in their arms |
balling |
to your hearts |
delight. |
balling to your hearts |
delight |
balling to |
your hearts delight |
balling to your hearts delight. |
May all the people who are dead |
Allen, Brion, Lita, Jack, |
and I do not miss any of you |
I don’t miss any of them, |
no nostalgia, |
it was wonderful we loved each other |
but I don’t want any of them back, |
now, if any of you |
are attracted to any of them, |
may they come back from the dead, |
and do whatever is your pleasure, |
may they multiply, |
and be the slaves |
of whomever wants them, |
fulfilling your every wish and desire, |
(but you won’t want them as masters, |
as they’re demons), |
may Andy come here |
fall in love with you |
and make each of you a superstar, |
everyone can have |
Andy. |
everyone can |
have Andy. |
everyone can have Andy, |
everyone can have an Andy. |
Huge hugs to the friends who betrayed me, |
every friend became an enemy, |
sooner or later, |
I am delighted you are vacuum cleaners |
sucking everything into your dirt bags, |
you are none other than a reflection of my mind. |
Thanks for the depression problem |
and feeling like suicide |
everyday of my life, |
and now that I’m seventy, |
I am happily almost there. |
Twenty billion years ago, |
in the primordial wisdom soup |
beyond comprehension and indescribable, |
something without substance moved slightly, |
and became something imperceptible, |
moved again and became something invisible, |
moved again and produced a particle and particles, |
moved again and became a quark, |
again and became quarks, |
moved again and again and became protons and neutrons, |
and the twelve dimensions of space, |
tiny fire balls of primordial energy |
bits tossed back and forth |
in a game of catch between particles, |
transmitting electromagnetic light |
and going fast, 40 million times a second, |
where the pebble hits the water, |
that is where the trouble began, |
something without substance became something with substance, |
why did it happen? |
because something substance less |
had a feeling of missing out on something, |
not |
getting it |
was not getting it |
not getting it, |
not getting it, |
imperceptibly not having something |
when there was nothing to have, |
clinging to a notion of reality; |
from the primordially endless potential, |
to modern day reality, |
twenty billion years later, |
has produced me, |
gave birth to me and my stupid grasping mind, |
made me and you and my grasping mind. |
May Rinpoche and all the great Tibetan teachers who loved me, |
come back and love you more, |
hold you in their wisdom hearts, |
bathe you in all-pervasive compassion, |
give you pith instructions, |
and may you with the diligence of Olympic athletes |
do meditation practice, |
and may you with direct confidence |
realize the true nature of mind. |
America, thanks for the neglect, |
I did it without you, |
let us celebrate poetic justice, |
you and I never were, |
never tried to do anything, |
and never succeeded, |
I want to thank you for introducing me to |
the face of the naked mind, |
thanx 4 nothing. |