quarta-feira, 28 de dezembro de 2011



Sell the kids for food
Weather changes moods
Spring is here again
Reproductive glands
He's the one who likes
All the pretty songs and he
Likes to sing along and he
Likes to shoot his gun but he
Don't know what it means
Don't know what it means
When I say
He's the one who likes
All the pretty songs and he
Likes to sing along and he
Likes to shoot his gun but he
Don't know what it means
Don't know what it means
When I say
Yeah

We can have some more
Nature is a whore
Bruises on the fruit
Tender age in bloom
He's the one who likes
All the pretty songs and he
Likes to sing along and he
Likes to shoot his gun but he
Don't know what it means
Don't know what it means
When I say
yes

He's the one who likes
All the pretty songs and he
Likes to sing along and he
Likes to shoot his gun but he
Don't know what it means
Don't know what it means
When I say
Yeah

He's the one who likes
All the pretty songs and he
Likes to sing along and he
Likes to shoot his gun but he
Don't know what it means
Don't know what it means
When I say Yeah

He's the one who likes
All the pretty songs and he
Likes to sing along and he
Likes to shoot his gun but he
Don't know what it means
Don't know what it means
Don't know what it means
Don't know what it means
And I say
Yeah

sexta-feira, 16 de dezembro de 2011

Para ela

Ele passava por uma rua estreita.
Ao seu lado direito um ribeirão.
Mas com um muro de proteção separando-o da rua.
Já pulara ali. Lembrava de tudo.
Naquela noite porém, aquela rua tinha uma luz, ou melhor menos luz que o normal.
Ele estava em trevas. Não sabia como lidar com a situação.
Agora era hora de beber até cair.
Mas não conseguia.
Ela não estava mais ali.
Tinha ido embora.
Queria ter uma cabeça limpa para pensar nela.
Sentou em um banco que ficava no meio da praça, de frente pra igreja.
Aquela imagem na cabeça. Ela.
Como ele a queria de volta.
Por um minuto apenas.
Ou talvez um segundo bastasse.
Pra saber que ela ainda existe...