<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4857835775454159056</id><updated>2011-04-21T18:14:35.925-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Juan Pacheco Punto Com Second Video Room</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://juanpachecofwordpad3.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4857835775454159056/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://juanpachecofwordpad3.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Juan Pacheco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00825108945170355251</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>8</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4857835775454159056.post-8940272390696020194</id><published>2007-03-27T19:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-27T19:34:16.512-07:00</updated><title type='text'>FOOLS GARDEN - LEMON TREE</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="210" height="170"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/LCR4LFNzyTo"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/LCR4LFNzyTo" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="210" height="170"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sitting here in a boring room&lt;br /&gt;It's just another rainy Sunday afternoon&lt;br /&gt;I'm wasting my time, I got nothing to do&lt;br /&gt;I'm hanging around, I'm waiting for you&lt;br /&gt;But nothing ever happens -- and I wonder&lt;br /&gt;I'm driving around in my car&lt;br /&gt;I'm driving too fast, I'm driving too far&lt;br /&gt;I'd like to change my point of view&lt;br /&gt;I feel so lonely, I'm waiting for you&lt;br /&gt;But nothing ever happens, and I wonder&lt;br /&gt;(Chorus)&lt;br /&gt;I wonder how, I wonder why&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday you told me 'bout the blue blue sky&lt;br /&gt;And all that I can see is just a yellow lemon tree&lt;br /&gt;I'm turning my head up and down&lt;br /&gt;I'm turning, turning, turning, turning, turning around&lt;br /&gt;And all that I can see is just a yellow (another) lemon tree&lt;br /&gt;La, la da dee da, etc.&lt;br /&gt;I'm sitting here, I miss the power&lt;br /&gt;I'd like to go out taking a shower&lt;br /&gt;But there's a heavy cloud inside my head&lt;br /&gt;I feel so tired, put myself into bed&lt;br /&gt;Where nothing ever happens -- and I wonder&lt;br /&gt;Isolation is not good for me&lt;br /&gt;Isolation -- I don't want to sit on a lemon tree&lt;br /&gt;I'm stepping around in a desert of joy&lt;br /&gt;Baby anyhow I'll get another toy&lt;br /&gt;And everything will happen -- and you'll wonder&lt;br /&gt;Repeat Chorus&lt;br /&gt;I wonder how I wonder why&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday you told me 'bout the blue, blue sky&lt;br /&gt;And all that I can see&lt;br /&gt;And all that I can see (dit dit dit)&lt;br /&gt;And all that I can see is just a yellow lemon tree&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4857835775454159056-8940272390696020194?l=juanpachecofwordpad3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://juanpachecofwordpad3.blogspot.com/feeds/8940272390696020194/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4857835775454159056&amp;postID=8940272390696020194' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4857835775454159056/posts/default/8940272390696020194'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4857835775454159056/posts/default/8940272390696020194'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://juanpachecofwordpad3.blogspot.com/2007/03/fools-garden-lemon-tree.html' title='FOOLS GARDEN - LEMON TREE'/><author><name>Juan Pacheco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00825108945170355251</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4857835775454159056.post-4475228961506214536</id><published>2006-12-08T14:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-08T14:21:44.638-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Maria Callas    La Habanera</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="210" height="170"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/pkfRWVagw3A"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/pkfRWVagw3A" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="210" height="170"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;L'amour est un oiseau rebelle &lt;br /&gt;Que nul ne peut apprivoiser, &lt;br /&gt;Et c'est bien en vain qu'on l'appelle, &lt;br /&gt;S'il lui convient de refuser. &lt;br /&gt;Rien n'y fait, menace ou prière, &lt;br /&gt;L'un parle bien, l'autre se tait; &lt;br /&gt;Et c'est l'autre que je préfère &lt;br /&gt;Il n'a rien dit; mais il me plaît. &lt;br /&gt;L'amour! L'amour! L'amour! L'amour! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;L'amour est enfant de Bohême, &lt;br /&gt;Il n'a jamais, jamais connu de loi, &lt;br /&gt;Si tu ne m'aime pas, je t'aime, &lt;br /&gt;Si je t'aime, prend garde à toi! &lt;br /&gt;Si tu ne m'aime pas, &lt;br /&gt;Si tu ne m'aime pas, je t'aime! &lt;br /&gt;Mais, si je t'aime, &lt;br /&gt;Si je t'aime, prend garde à toi! &lt;br /&gt;Si tu ne m'aime pas, &lt;br /&gt;Si tu ne m'aime pas, je t'aime! &lt;br /&gt;Mais, si je t'aime, &lt;br /&gt;Si je t'aime, prend garde à toi! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;L'oiseau que tu croyais surprendre &lt;br /&gt;Battit de l'aile et s'envola; &lt;br /&gt;L'amour est loin, tu peux l'attendre; &lt;br /&gt;Tu ne l'attend plus, il est là! &lt;br /&gt;Tout autour de toi vite, vite, &lt;br /&gt;Il vient, s'en va, puis il revient! &lt;br /&gt;Tu crois le tenir, il t'évite; &lt;br /&gt;Tu crois l'éviter, il te tient! &lt;br /&gt;L'amour, l'amour, l'amour, l'amour! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;L'amour est enfant de Bohême, &lt;br /&gt;Il n'a jamais, jamais connu de loi, &lt;br /&gt;Si tu ne m'aime pas, je t'aime, &lt;br /&gt;Si je t'aime, prend garde à toi! &lt;br /&gt;Si tu ne m'aime pas, je t'aime, &lt;br /&gt;Si je t'aime, prend garde à toi! &lt;br /&gt;Si tu ne m'aime pas, &lt;br /&gt;Si tu ne m'aime pas, je t'aime! &lt;br /&gt;Mais, si je t'aime, &lt;br /&gt;Si je t'aime, prend garde à toi! &lt;br /&gt;Si tu ne m'aime pas, &lt;br /&gt;Si tu ne m'aime pas, je t'aime! &lt;br /&gt;Mais, si je t'aime, &lt;br /&gt;Si je t'aime, prend garde à toi!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4857835775454159056-4475228961506214536?l=juanpachecofwordpad3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://juanpachecofwordpad3.blogspot.com/feeds/4475228961506214536/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4857835775454159056&amp;postID=4475228961506214536' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4857835775454159056/posts/default/4475228961506214536'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4857835775454159056/posts/default/4475228961506214536'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://juanpachecofwordpad3.blogspot.com/2006/12/maria-callas-la-habanera.html' title='Maria Callas    La Habanera'/><author><name>Juan Pacheco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00825108945170355251</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4857835775454159056.post-7648068869544905025</id><published>2006-12-03T14:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-03T14:18:36.109-08:00</updated><title type='text'>KANSAS - DUST IN THE WIND</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="210" height="170"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Vx276t3dVdQ"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Vx276t3dVdQ" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="210" height="170"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I close my eyes, only for a moment, and the moment's gone &lt;br /&gt;All my dreams, pass before my eyes, a curiosity &lt;br /&gt;Dust in the wind, all they are is dust in the wind &lt;br /&gt;Same old song, just a drop of water in an endless sea &lt;br /&gt;All we do, crumbles to the ground, though we refuse to see &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dust in the wind, All we are is dust in the wind &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't hang on, nothing lasts forever but the earth and sky &lt;br /&gt;It slips away, all your money won't another minute buy &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dust in the wind, All we are is dust in the wind&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4857835775454159056-7648068869544905025?l=juanpachecofwordpad3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://juanpachecofwordpad3.blogspot.com/feeds/7648068869544905025/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4857835775454159056&amp;postID=7648068869544905025' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4857835775454159056/posts/default/7648068869544905025'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4857835775454159056/posts/default/7648068869544905025'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://juanpachecofwordpad3.blogspot.com/2006/12/kansas-dust-in-wind.html' title='KANSAS - DUST IN THE WIND'/><author><name>Juan Pacheco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00825108945170355251</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4857835775454159056.post-3070318486257647039</id><published>2006-11-19T17:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-19T17:58:22.527-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Les Lacs du Conemara par Michel Sardou</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="210" height="170"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/tsa29CVZ9Ok"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/tsa29CVZ9Ok" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="210" height="170"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LES LACS DU CONEMARA&lt;br /&gt;MICHEL SARDOU&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Terre brûlée au vent, des landes de pierres&lt;br /&gt;autour des lacs, c'est pour les vivants un peu d'enfer&lt;br /&gt;le Connemara&lt;br /&gt;Des nuages noirs&lt;br /&gt;qui viennent du nord colorent la terre&lt;br /&gt;les lacs, les rivières&lt;br /&gt;c'est le décor du Connemara&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Au printemps suivant, le ciel irlandais était en paix&lt;br /&gt;Maureen a plongé nue dans un lac du Connemara&lt;br /&gt;Sean Kelly s'est dit: "Je suis catholique, Maureen aussi!"&lt;br /&gt;L'église en granit de Limerick,&lt;br /&gt;Maureen a dit oui&lt;br /&gt;De Tipperary, Barry-Connely et de Galway&lt;br /&gt;ils sont arrivés dans le comté du Connemara&lt;br /&gt;Y'avait les Connors, les Flaherty du Ring of Kerry&lt;br /&gt;et de quoi boire trois jours et deux nuits?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Là-bas au Connemara&lt;br /&gt;on sait tout le prix du silence&lt;br /&gt;là-bas au Connemara&lt;br /&gt;on dit que la vie, c'est une folie&lt;br /&gt;et que la folie, ça se danse&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Terre brülée au vent, des landes de pierres&lt;br /&gt;autour des lacs, c'est pour les vivants, un peu d'enfer&lt;br /&gt;le Connemara&lt;br /&gt;des nuages noirs&lt;br /&gt;qui viennent du nord&lt;br /&gt;colorent la terre, les lacs, les rivières&lt;br /&gt;c'est le décor du Connemara&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On y vit encore&lt;br /&gt;au temps de Gaëls et de Cromwell&lt;br /&gt;au rhytme des pluies et du soleil&lt;br /&gt;au pas de chevaux&lt;br /&gt;On y croit encore&lt;br /&gt;aux monstres des lacs, qu'on voit nager&lt;br /&gt;certains soirs d'été&lt;br /&gt;et replonger pour l'éternité&lt;br /&gt;On y voit encore&lt;br /&gt;des hommes d'ailleurs venus chercher&lt;br /&gt;le repos de l'âme et pour la coeur&lt;br /&gt;un goût de meilleur&lt;br /&gt;L'on y croit encore&lt;br /&gt;que le jour viendra, il est tout près&lt;br /&gt;ou les Irlandais feront la paix autour de la Croix&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Là-bas au Connemara&lt;br /&gt;on sait tout le prix de la guerre&lt;br /&gt;là-bas au Connemara&lt;br /&gt;on n'accepte pas&lt;br /&gt;la paix des Gallois&lt;br /&gt;ni celle des rois d'Angleterre&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4857835775454159056-3070318486257647039?l=juanpachecofwordpad3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://juanpachecofwordpad3.blogspot.com/feeds/3070318486257647039/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4857835775454159056&amp;postID=3070318486257647039' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4857835775454159056/posts/default/3070318486257647039'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4857835775454159056/posts/default/3070318486257647039'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://juanpachecofwordpad3.blogspot.com/2006/11/les-lacs-du-conemara-par-michel-sardou.html' title='Les Lacs du Conemara par Michel Sardou'/><author><name>Juan Pacheco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00825108945170355251</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4857835775454159056.post-3786864440164865315</id><published>2006-11-19T17:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-19T17:52:48.716-08:00</updated><title type='text'>La Foule par Edith Piaff</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="210" height="170"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/rbsl5_203Ms"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/rbsl5_203Ms" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="210" height="170"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Je revois la ville en fête et en délire&lt;br /&gt;Suffoquant sous le soleil et sous la joie&lt;br /&gt;Et j'entends dans la musique les cris, les rires&lt;br /&gt;Qui éclatent et rebondissent autour de moi&lt;br /&gt;Et perdue parmi ces gens qui me bousculent&lt;br /&gt;Étourdie, désemparée, je reste là&lt;br /&gt;Quand soudain, je me retourne, il se recule,&lt;br /&gt;Et la foule vient me jeter entre ses bras...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Emportés par la foule qui nous traîne&lt;br /&gt;Nous entraîne&lt;br /&gt;Écrasés l'un contre l'autre&lt;br /&gt;Nous ne formons qu'un seul corps&lt;br /&gt;Et le flot sans effort&lt;br /&gt;Nous pousse, enchaînés l'un et l'autre&lt;br /&gt;Et nous laisse tous deux&lt;br /&gt;Épanouis, enivrés et heureux.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Entraînés par la foule qui s'élance&lt;br /&gt;Et qui danse&lt;br /&gt;Une folle farandole&lt;br /&gt;Nos deux mains restent soudées&lt;br /&gt;Et parfois soulevés&lt;br /&gt;Nos deux corps enlacés s'envolent&lt;br /&gt;Et retombent tous deux&lt;br /&gt;Épanouis, enivrés et heureux...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Et la joie éclaboussée par son sourire&lt;br /&gt;Me transperce et rejaillit au fond de moi&lt;br /&gt;Mais soudain je pousse un cri parmi les rires&lt;br /&gt;Quand la foule vient l'arracher d'entre mes bras...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Emportés par la foule qui nous traîne&lt;br /&gt;Nous entraîne&lt;br /&gt;Nous éloigne l'un de l'autre&lt;br /&gt;Je lutte et je me débats&lt;br /&gt;Mais le son de sa voix&lt;br /&gt;S'étouffe dans les rires des autres&lt;br /&gt;Et je crie de douleur, de fureur et de rage&lt;br /&gt;Et je pleure...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Entraînée par la foule qui s'élance&lt;br /&gt;Et qui danse&lt;br /&gt;Une folle farandole&lt;br /&gt;Je suis emportée au loin&lt;br /&gt;Et je crispe mes poings, maudissant la foule qui me vole&lt;br /&gt;L'homme qu'elle m'avait donné&lt;br /&gt;Et que je n'ai jamais retrouvé...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4857835775454159056-3786864440164865315?l=juanpachecofwordpad3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://juanpachecofwordpad3.blogspot.com/feeds/3786864440164865315/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4857835775454159056&amp;postID=3786864440164865315' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4857835775454159056/posts/default/3786864440164865315'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4857835775454159056/posts/default/3786864440164865315'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://juanpachecofwordpad3.blogspot.com/2006/11/la-foule-par-edith-piaff.html' title='La Foule par Edith Piaff'/><author><name>Juan Pacheco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00825108945170355251</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4857835775454159056.post-4038339210025262236</id><published>2006-11-19T17:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-19T17:47:01.254-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Je Ne Regrette Rien par Edith Piaff</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="170" width="210"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/RyMsrYW__8s"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/RyMsrYW__8s" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="210" height="170"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Non! Rien de rien ...&lt;br /&gt;Non ! Je ne regrette rien&lt;br /&gt;Ni le bien qu'on m'a fait&lt;br /&gt;Ni le mal tout ça m'est bien égal !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Non ! Rien de rien ...&lt;br /&gt;Non ! Je ne regrette rien...&lt;br /&gt;C'est payé, balayé, oublié&lt;br /&gt;Je me fous du passé!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Avec mes souvenirs&lt;br /&gt;J'ai allumé le feu&lt;br /&gt;Mes chagrins, mes plaisirs&lt;br /&gt;Je n'ai plus besoin d'eux !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Balayés les amours&lt;br /&gt;Et tous leurs trémolos&lt;br /&gt;Balayés pour toujours&lt;br /&gt;Je repars à zéro ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Non ! Rien de rien ...&lt;br /&gt;Non ! Je ne regrette nen ...&lt;br /&gt;Ni le bien, qu'on m'a fait&lt;br /&gt;Ni le mal, tout ça m'est bien égal !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Non ! Rien de rien ...&lt;br /&gt;Non ! Je ne regrette rien ...&lt;br /&gt;Car ma vie, car mes joies&lt;br /&gt;Aujourd'hui, ça commence avec toi !&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4857835775454159056-4038339210025262236?l=juanpachecofwordpad3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://juanpachecofwordpad3.blogspot.com/feeds/4038339210025262236/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4857835775454159056&amp;postID=4038339210025262236' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4857835775454159056/posts/default/4038339210025262236'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4857835775454159056/posts/default/4038339210025262236'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://juanpachecofwordpad3.blogspot.com/2006/11/je-ne-regrette-rien-par-edith-piaff.html' title='Je Ne Regrette Rien par Edith Piaff'/><author><name>Juan Pacheco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00825108945170355251</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4857835775454159056.post-6417225321274636666</id><published>2006-11-19T16:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-19T17:48:15.613-08:00</updated><title type='text'>You're Beautiful  By James Blunt</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;object height="170" width="210"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/5VSBX-tXkWc"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/5VSBX-tXkWc" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="210" height="170"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:100%;"&gt;YOU'RE BEAUTIFUL&lt;br /&gt;James Blunt&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My life is&lt;br /&gt;brilliant.&lt;br /&gt;My life is brilliant&lt;br /&gt;My love is&lt;br /&gt;pure.&lt;br /&gt;I saw an angel.&lt;br /&gt;Of that I'm sure.&lt;br /&gt;She&lt;br /&gt;smiled at me on the subway.&lt;br /&gt;She was with another man.&lt;br /&gt;But I won't lose no sleep on that,&lt;br /&gt;'Cause&lt;br /&gt;I've got a plan.&lt;br /&gt;You're beautiful.&lt;br /&gt;You're beautiful.&lt;br /&gt;You're beautiful, it's&lt;br /&gt;true.&lt;br /&gt;I saw your face in a crowded place,&lt;br /&gt;And I don't know what to do, '&lt;br /&gt;Cause I'll never&lt;br /&gt;be with you.&lt;br /&gt;Yes, she caught my eye,&lt;br /&gt;As we walked&lt;br /&gt;on by.&lt;br /&gt;She could see from my face that I was,&lt;br /&gt;Fucking&lt;br /&gt;high,&lt;br /&gt;And I don't think that I'll see her&lt;br /&gt;again,&lt;br /&gt;But we shared a moment that will last 'till the&lt;br /&gt;end.&lt;br /&gt;You're beautiful. You're beautiful.&lt;br /&gt;You're beautiful, it's true.&lt;br /&gt;I saw your face in&lt;br /&gt;a crowded place,&lt;br /&gt;And I don't know what to do,&lt;br /&gt;'Cause I'll never be with you.&lt;br /&gt;La la la&lt;br /&gt;la la la la la la&lt;br /&gt;You're beautiful. You're&lt;br /&gt;beautiful.&lt;br /&gt;You're beautiful, it's true.&lt;br /&gt;There must be an angel with a smile on her face,&lt;br /&gt;When she&lt;br /&gt;thought up that I should be with you.&lt;br /&gt;But it's time to&lt;br /&gt;face the truth,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;I will never be with you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4857835775454159056-6417225321274636666?l=juanpachecofwordpad3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://juanpachecofwordpad3.blogspot.com/feeds/6417225321274636666/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4857835775454159056&amp;postID=6417225321274636666' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4857835775454159056/posts/default/6417225321274636666'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4857835775454159056/posts/default/6417225321274636666'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://juanpachecofwordpad3.blogspot.com/2006/11/youre-beautiful-by-james-blunt.html' title='You&apos;re Beautiful  By James Blunt'/><author><name>Juan Pacheco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00825108945170355251</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4857835775454159056.post-6078678406409246396</id><published>2006-11-19T16:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-19T17:48:41.684-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Capri C'est Fini par Hervé Vilard</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;object height="170" width="210"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/4TP3u0rNkys"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/4TP3u0rNkys" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="210" height="170"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"&gt;Capri C'est Fini&lt;br /&gt;Hervé Vilard&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nous n'irons plus jamais,&lt;br /&gt;Où tu m'as dit je t'aime,&lt;br /&gt;Nous n'irons plus jamais,&lt;br /&gt;Comme les autres années,&lt;br /&gt;Nous n'irons plus jamais,&lt;br /&gt;Ce soir c'est plus la peine,&lt;br /&gt;Nous n'irons plus jamais,&lt;br /&gt;Comme les autres années;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Capri, c'est fini,&lt;br /&gt;Et dire que c'était la ville&lt;br /&gt;De mon premier amour,&lt;br /&gt;Capri, c'est fini,&lt;br /&gt;Je ne crois pas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Que j'y retournerai un jour.&lt;br /&gt;Capri, c'est fini,&lt;br /&gt;Et dire que c'était la ville&lt;br /&gt;De mon premier amour,&lt;br /&gt;Capri, c'est fini,&lt;br /&gt;Je ne crois pas&lt;br /&gt;Que j'y retournerai un jour.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nous n'irons plus jamais,&lt;br /&gt;Où tu m'as dit je t'aime,&lt;br /&gt;Nous n'irons plus jamais,&lt;br /&gt;Comme les autres années;&lt;br /&gt;Parfois je voudrais bien,&lt;br /&gt;Te dire recommençons,&lt;br /&gt;Mais je perds le courage,&lt;br /&gt;Sachant que tu diras non.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Capri, c'est fini,&lt;br /&gt;Et dire que c'était la ville&lt;br /&gt;De mon premier amour,&lt;br /&gt;Capri, c'est fini,&lt;br /&gt;Je ne crois pas&lt;br /&gt;Que j'y retournerai un jour.&lt;br /&gt;Capri, c'est fini,&lt;br /&gt;Et dire que c'était la ville&lt;br /&gt;De mon premier amour,&lt;br /&gt;Capri, c'est fini,&lt;br /&gt;Je ne crois pas&lt;br /&gt;Que j'y retournerai un jour.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Nous n'irons plus jamais, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Mais je me souviendrais,&lt;br /&gt;Du premier rendez-vous,&lt;br /&gt;Que tu m'avais donné,&lt;br /&gt;Nous n'irons plus jamais,&lt;br /&gt;Comme les autres années,&lt;br /&gt;Nous n'irons plus jamais,&lt;br /&gt;Plus jamais, plus jamais.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Capri, c'est fini,&lt;br /&gt;Et dire que c'était la ville&lt;br /&gt;De mon premier amour,&lt;br /&gt;Capri, c'est fini,&lt;br /&gt;Je ne crois pas&lt;br /&gt;Que j'y retournerai un jour.&lt;br /&gt;Capri, oh c'est fini,&lt;br /&gt;Et dire que c'était la ville&lt;br /&gt;De mon premier amour,&lt;br /&gt;Capri,oh c'est fini,&lt;br /&gt;Je ne crois pas&lt;br /&gt;Que j'y retournerai un jour.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Oh capri, oh c'est fini, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"&gt;Et dire que c'était la ville&lt;br /&gt;De mon premier amour&lt;br /&gt;Oh capri, c'est fini,&lt;br /&gt;Je ne crois pas&lt;br /&gt;Que j'y retournerai un jour.&lt;br /&gt;Oh capri, oh c'est fini,&lt;br /&gt;Et dire que c'était la ville&lt;br /&gt;De mon premier amour&lt;br /&gt;Oh capri, c'est fini,&lt;br /&gt;Je ne crois pas&lt;br /&gt;Que j'y retournerai un jour.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4857835775454159056-6078678406409246396?l=juanpachecofwordpad3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://juanpachecofwordpad3.blogspot.com/feeds/6078678406409246396/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4857835775454159056&amp;postID=6078678406409246396' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4857835775454159056/posts/default/6078678406409246396'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4857835775454159056/posts/default/6078678406409246396'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://juanpachecofwordpad3.blogspot.com/2006/11/capri-cest-fini-par-herv-vilard.html' title='Capri C&apos;est Fini par Hervé Vilard'/><author><name>Juan Pacheco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00825108945170355251</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
