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quarta-feira, 29 de setembro de 2010

l o b o t o m i a

how can i say this, that, this here
over my skin, how can i say it for u?
i mean, how can i do
how can i move
how can i let you know
by moving me
inside this room
how can i let you feel
better than know

how can i make you feel
all this mess?

is close
is waiting for revolution
waiting for the piano darkest sound
waiting for wishes i can

i know what it takes to move on
i call
rock it, flock it
drop it inside and on in out
it’s like a poem
that will never really exist
cause the game is created to be error
these words are not trying to find anything
cause every thing here
has dead for appear right now
like an art construction

everything here is potencially dead, already

let your touch move my body
inside my mouth, let your children play
let them sing your song
but with my lungs
making them drums
kicking all dramas
instead of only
be real.

let's talk to the stones
find each other under the sun
being cru
rude being
cause we throught

and so, we're capable to cut
capable to blur
and capable to do everything that i do not have name
to describe

capable to does not know
and then we go
we go believing that
across the stairs
all of our secrets are living
we go on believing
that all of our secrets
are named love.


Um comentário:


vc, bonito!
e ali na TV, o dvd da marisa... :]

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