Comments by "No One" (@joermundgand) on "BBC News"
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Funny, in reality a lot of cargo ships make short trips empty between ports, drop some thing off, pick something up in Le Havre, Bremerhaven, Hamburg, Rotterdam, Antwerp, Southhampton, Felixstowe, Dunkirk. So not surprising that a ship would say drop something off further south and on the return voyage pick up cargo on the way home in one these ports.
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The original lyrics are far better and speak of the forgotten and the powerless, the people ignored by the wealthy freaks on parade in London town.
Is this the real life?
Is this just fantasy?
Caught in a landslide,
No escape from reality.
Open your eyes,
Look up to the skies and see,
I'm just a poor boy, I need no sympathy,
Because I'm easy come, easy go,
Little high, little low,
Any way the wind blows doesn't really matter to me, to me.
Mama, just killed a man,
Put a gun against his head,
Pulled my trigger, now he's dead.
Mama, life had just begun,
But now I've gone and thrown it all away.
Mama, ooh,
Didn't mean to make you cry,
If I'm not back again this time tomorrow,
Carry on, carry on as if nothing really matters.
Too late, my time has come,
Sends shivers down my spine,
Body's aching all the time.
Goodbye, everybody, I've got to go,
Gotta leave you all behind and face the truth.
Mama, ooh (any way the wind blows),
I don't wanna die,
I sometimes wish I'd never been born at all.
I see a little silhouetto of a man,
Scaramouche, Scaramouche, will you do the Fandango?
Thunderbolt and lightning,
Very, very frightening me.
(Galileo) Galileo.
(Galileo) Galileo,
Galileo Figaro
Magnifico-o-o-o-o.
I'm just a poor boy, nobody loves me.
He's just a poor boy from a poor family,
Spare him his life from this monstrosity.
Easy come, easy go, will you let me go?
Bismillah! No, we will not let you go. (Let him go!)
Bismillah! We will not let you go. (Let him go!)
Bismillah! We will not let you go. (Let me go!)
Will not let you go. (Let me go!)
Never let you go (Never, never, never, never let me go)
Oh oh oh oh
No, no, no, no, no, no, no
Oh, mama mia, mama mia (Mama mia, let me go.)
Beelzebub has a devil put aside for me, for me, for me.
So you think you can stone me and spit in my eye?
So you think you can love me and leave me to die?
Oh, baby, can't do this to me, baby,
Just gotta get out, just gotta get right outta here.
(Ooooh, ooh yeah, ooh yeah)
Nothing really matters,
Anyone can see,
Nothing really matters,
Nothing really matters to me.
Any way the wind blows.
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Anuradha Aravind. They are human doing human things, like rape, torture and murder. Ultimately they are just instruments of war, no different from any other instrument of war, a landsknecht, a djagatai, a legionnaire, a janissary, a kshatriya, a means to conquer real estate told a fairy tale by their bosses to motivate them to indulge in violent delights, all to get stuff for their bosses who sells it to bigger bosses.
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Anuradha Aravind. Carbon is energy, energy is money, increase amount of money to generate growth, control which currency is used to trade carbon, increases demand for said currency, a means to control carbon is war, use this currency or your home will be bombed back into the stone age, violence will be done to you and those you love, fanatics and ideologues will flood the steets and media calling for death to the enemies of the people, for freedom, for the rights of women, for the children, for communism, for freedom of religion, for the true faith, for Allah or Shiva or Buddha or Yahweh.
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Anuradha Aravind. The food you eat are grown using fertilizers made from carbon, your house is made from carbon, so are your streets, your books, your device which you use right now, the paint on your walls are carbon, your work is the consumption of carbon, trading carbon for carbon, the warriors get the carbon you eat, the carbon you trade, the carbon you read.
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