Paroles de la chanson Man In The Box par
Two chemical lovers
Met under moonlight
They ain't hooked on each other
But pretend for the night
After all it's just nature
Whatever feels right
Then here comes little ole me
I hit the ground running
On the heels of my mother
The young buck with nothing
Who's old man's a goner
I grew like a willow
By the end of that summer
I'd been set free
Met under moonlight
They ain't hooked on each other
But pretend for the night
After all it's just nature
Whatever feels right
Then here comes little ole me
I hit the ground running
On the heels of my mother
The young buck with nothing
Who's old man's a goner
I grew like a willow
By the end of that summer
I'd been set free
What a wonderful world
What a high of all highs
Drunk on the pure ecstasy of my youth
Well damn would you look at that pretty sunrise
Hell I made it this far
With the hand I've been dealt
Might as well go make the best of my years
Might as well go make a name for myself
Oh-oh-ohhh
Oh it's been a long December but the wind says winter is rolling down the road
Patiently I've been waiting in line, I'm thinking it's time I get to holding down them rows
The mirror in the water says Heaven knows I owe that favor to the
Architect making me a grown ass baker's dozen man
What a high of all highs
Drunk on the pure ecstasy of my youth
Well damn would you look at that pretty sunrise
Hell I made it this far
With the hand I've been dealt
Might as well go make the best of my years
Might as well go make a name for myself
Oh-oh-ohhh
Oh it's been a long December but the wind says winter is rolling down the road
Patiently I've been waiting in line, I'm thinking it's time I get to holding down them rows
The mirror in the water says Heaven knows I owe that favor to the
Architect making me a grown ass baker's dozen man
With a plan to put a stamp on the land of just goin' with the flow
Somebody say
How you gonna live (woo)
You grow up in a hurry even when you don't even try
Whatcha gonna give (yeah)
You're rolling in the dirt next thing you know there's years gone by
To the world to the world to the world
As far as I'm concerned by God you only get one life
Damn it feels good to be alive
Damn it feels good to be alive
Every moving thing that lives shall be food for you
Somebody say
How you gonna live (woo)
You grow up in a hurry even when you don't even try
Whatcha gonna give (yeah)
You're rolling in the dirt next thing you know there's years gone by
To the world to the world to the world
As far as I'm concerned by God you only get one life
Damn it feels good to be alive
Damn it feels good to be alive
Every moving thing that lives shall be food for you
These are the living things that you made equal among all the animals
For everything created by God is good
And nothing is to be rejected
If it is recieved with thanksgiving
The man in the box
His legend's in the air
I've had my reservations
But damn if he ain't there
He blends in with the background
With a red tail kinda stare
I'll never know how but He's everywhere
Yeah the man in the box
He's up before the sun
He looks out of the window at everything he's done
Groceries for the hungry
For everything created by God is good
And nothing is to be rejected
If it is recieved with thanksgiving
The man in the box
His legend's in the air
I've had my reservations
But damn if he ain't there
He blends in with the background
With a red tail kinda stare
I'll never know how but He's everywhere
Yeah the man in the box
He's up before the sun
He looks out of the window at everything he's done
Groceries for the hungry
Shelter for the young
Still my premonition tells me I should run
Honestly
What do you what do you want from me
I'm just a guy with a strong determination
To cruise and keep a chasing these tails until the new crew in town takes my spot
Should I listen
To my county line intuition
Will I be the hero or killed on the scene
Tell me this: Does the king of the country keep his crown if he locks
(The man in the)
(The man in the)
(The man in the)
The man in the box
Still my premonition tells me I should run
Honestly
What do you what do you want from me
I'm just a guy with a strong determination
To cruise and keep a chasing these tails until the new crew in town takes my spot
Should I listen
To my county line intuition
Will I be the hero or killed on the scene
Tell me this: Does the king of the country keep his crown if he locks
(The man in the)
(The man in the)
(The man in the)
The man in the box
I wonder if he knows
When the sun's down and moon's out
And he's slippin' through the rows
With smoke thick from his oak stick like a firefly on his nose
That I can put an end to him
But choose to let him go
Hey man in the box
I've wondered all these years
What keeps your on your rusty throne
Is it passion, is it fear?
Does divine or malign define what's in between those ears
‘Cause every time I hear thunder someone disappears
Honestly
What do you what do you want from me
When the sun's down and moon's out
And he's slippin' through the rows
With smoke thick from his oak stick like a firefly on his nose
That I can put an end to him
But choose to let him go
Hey man in the box
I've wondered all these years
What keeps your on your rusty throne
Is it passion, is it fear?
Does divine or malign define what's in between those ears
‘Cause every time I hear thunder someone disappears
Honestly
What do you what do you want from me
I'm just a guy with a strong determination
To cruise and keep a chasing these tails until the new crew in town takes my spot
Should I listen
To my county line intuition
Will I be the hero or killed on the scene
Tell me this
Does the king of the country keep his crown if he locks
The man in the
The man in the
The man in the box
The man in the
The man in the box
He's gotta know I'm starving
I'm run down but this blood hound smells pretty girls at the party
To cruise and keep a chasing these tails until the new crew in town takes my spot
Should I listen
To my county line intuition
Will I be the hero or killed on the scene
Tell me this
Does the king of the country keep his crown if he locks
The man in the
The man in the
The man in the box
The man in the
The man in the box
He's gotta know I'm starving
I'm run down but this blood hound smells pretty girls at the party
Not for you little number two we're really doing this aren't we
Honestly fuck it I'm fucking you up you're a bitch and my names on the marquis
Man in the box
What the hell have you done
Last thing I heard was
Now there's blood in my lungs
Is this really how I die?
Do you do this for fun?
Make me a statue
Like father like son close my eyes
Now I see
After all this time
Maybe the man in the box is me...
I give thanks to the Lord
Honestly fuck it I'm fucking you up you're a bitch and my names on the marquis
Man in the box
What the hell have you done
Last thing I heard was
Now there's blood in my lungs
Is this really how I die?
Do you do this for fun?
Make me a statue
Like father like son close my eyes
Now I see
After all this time
Maybe the man in the box is me...
I give thanks to the Lord
That gave its life today
I respect it in death as I respected in in life
May every part that be used
Be put to good use
And may its sacrifice feed the ones I love
Amen
I respect it in death as I respected in in life
May every part that be used
Be put to good use
And may its sacrifice feed the ones I love
Amen
Que racontent les paroles de la chanson Man In The Box de HARDY ?
Quand on naît d'une nuit sans lendemain
Tout part d'une image simple et sans romantisme : deux inconnus qui se retrouvent sous la lune, "not hooked on each other but pretend for the night" — pas amoureux, juste là. Et de cette nuit-là naît quelqu'un. HARDY commence son histoire au commencement, sans fard ni nostalgie, avec cette façon qu'il a de regarder la vie rurale américaine sans l'idéaliser ni la caricaturer. Le gamin grandit vite, "comme un saule" dit-il, sans père, sur les talons de sa mère. Mais quelque chose en lui court déjà vers l'horizon.
L'homme qu'on devient malgré tout
Il y a dans le milieu de la chanson une énergie presque euphorique — "damn it feels good to be alive", répété comme une conviction qu'on se murmure pour qu'elle devienne vraie. Le narrateur fait le bilan, joue avec la main qu'on lui a donnée, décide d'en faire quelque chose. C'est le cœur battant du morceau : cette volonté brute de laisser une trace, de ne pas disparaître comme son père a disparu. Et puis surgit l'autre — le man in the box, cette silhouette qu'on aperçoit dans les rangées de champs, avant le soleil, après la lune. Qui est-il ? Un fantôme ? Un voisin ? Une conscience ? HARDY laisse planer le doute et c'est ce doute qui tient en haleine.
L'ombre qu'on fuit jusqu'à se reconnaître en elle
La chanson bascule sans prévenir. La violence s'invite dans le texte, le souffle se coupe, "there's blood in my lungs" — et là, dans cet instant suspendu entre vie et mort, la vérité tombe : l'homme dans la boîte, c'était lui depuis le début. Son propre juge, son propre fantôme, l'héritage de ce père absent qui n'a jamais eu de visage. "Like father like son" — le fils devient ce qu'il a fui. Puis vient la prière, douce et solennelle, qui remercie ce qui a donné sa vie pour nourrir les autres. Une façon de clore la boucle, de réconcilier le chasseur et le gibier, l'homme et son ombre. HARDY ne résout rien vraiment — il pose juste la question au bon endroit.
Tout part d'une image simple et sans romantisme : deux inconnus qui se retrouvent sous la lune, "not hooked on each other but pretend for the night" — pas amoureux, juste là. Et de cette nuit-là naît quelqu'un. HARDY commence son histoire au commencement, sans fard ni nostalgie, avec cette façon qu'il a de regarder la vie rurale américaine sans l'idéaliser ni la caricaturer. Le gamin grandit vite, "comme un saule" dit-il, sans père, sur les talons de sa mère. Mais quelque chose en lui court déjà vers l'horizon.
L'homme qu'on devient malgré tout
Il y a dans le milieu de la chanson une énergie presque euphorique — "damn it feels good to be alive", répété comme une conviction qu'on se murmure pour qu'elle devienne vraie. Le narrateur fait le bilan, joue avec la main qu'on lui a donnée, décide d'en faire quelque chose. C'est le cœur battant du morceau : cette volonté brute de laisser une trace, de ne pas disparaître comme son père a disparu. Et puis surgit l'autre — le man in the box, cette silhouette qu'on aperçoit dans les rangées de champs, avant le soleil, après la lune. Qui est-il ? Un fantôme ? Un voisin ? Une conscience ? HARDY laisse planer le doute et c'est ce doute qui tient en haleine.
L'ombre qu'on fuit jusqu'à se reconnaître en elle
La chanson bascule sans prévenir. La violence s'invite dans le texte, le souffle se coupe, "there's blood in my lungs" — et là, dans cet instant suspendu entre vie et mort, la vérité tombe : l'homme dans la boîte, c'était lui depuis le début. Son propre juge, son propre fantôme, l'héritage de ce père absent qui n'a jamais eu de visage. "Like father like son" — le fils devient ce qu'il a fui. Puis vient la prière, douce et solennelle, qui remercie ce qui a donné sa vie pour nourrir les autres. Une façon de clore la boucle, de réconcilier le chasseur et le gibier, l'homme et son ombre. HARDY ne résout rien vraiment — il pose juste la question au bon endroit.