quinta-feira, julho 29, 2004

Plush - Stone Temple Pilots

spoken) This is a song called Plush

And I feel that time's a wasted go
So where you going to tomorrow
And I see that these are lies to come
Would you even care
And I feel it
And I feel it

Where you going to tomorrow
Where you going with that mask I found
And I feel, and I feel
When the dogs beging to smell her
Will she smell alone

And I feel, so much depends on the weather
So is it raining in your bedroom
And I see that these are the eyes of disarray
Would you even care

And I feel it
And she feels it

Where you going to tomorrow
Where you going to with that mask I found
And I feel, and I feel
When the dogs begin to smell her
Will she smell alone

When the dogs do find her
Got time, time, to wait for tomorrow

quarta-feira, julho 28, 2004

Atualizando e Acrescentando a Lista de Blogs de Amigos

sexta-feira, julho 23, 2004

Talvez eu não queira ter medo
Talvez eu não queira chorar
Talvez eu não queira sorrir
Talvez eu não queira sonhar

Não estamos a sós
O inimigos não está entre nós
O inimigo está em nós

Suporta essa dor que cria
Ao menos um dia
E ao fim saberá o gosto amargo da alegria

Não subestime a minha dor
Prove um pouco desse doce sabor
Depois jogue tudo no chão
Humilhe esse coração
E nunca peça perdão

Observe esta vida que agoniza
Nesses dias frios..escuro
Onde essa alma se debate
Em cada pedaço desse muro

E assim todos os dias a verá
Pelo resto da eternidade,
Nesse abismo que foi jogada
Pela própria mediocridade

Flight Of Icarus - Iron Maiden

As the sun breaks,
above the ground,
An old man stands on the hill,
As the ground warms,
to the first rays of light
A birdsong shatters the still.
His eyes are a blaze,
See the madman in his gaze.
Fly, on your way, like an eagle,
Fly as high as the sun,
On your way, like an eagle,
Fly and touch the sun.
Now the crowd breaks and a young boy appears
Looks the old man in the eye
As he spreads his wings and shouts at the crowd
In the name of God my father I fly.
His eyes seem so glazed
As he flies on the wings of a dream,
Now he knows his father betrayed
Now his wings turn to ashes to ashes his grave.
Fly, on your way, like an eagle,
Fly as high as the sun,
On your way, like an eagle,
Fly as high as the sun.

 

quarta-feira, julho 21, 2004

Não vou contar nenhuma história triste hoje.
Apenas histórias reais.
Ninguém me disse que para ser real é preciso que aconteça.
Logo, basta eu imaginar para se tornar realidade.
Na minha cabeça.
Tudo é tão confuso.
E eu com essa mania de pontos finais.
Preciso por um ponto final na minha vida

Olhava pela janela, queria estar lá.
Lá longe, no horizonte, fugindo de tudo que a apavorava.
E cada dia mais, mais pessoas, mais esforços, mais deveres.
O seu ser se tornando tão minísculo ,tão insignificante.
De tal forma, que ele acreditou que sempre o fora, e viveu seguindo o esquema.
sentou na frente do espelho
e começou a bater sua cabeça nele.
queria entrar lá.onde tudo era ao contrário,
queria entrar lá porque queria ser feliz.
todos querem isso mas ninguém teve a idéia dela...
entrar no espelho.
idéia ridícula ...
os cacos feriram seus olhos,
suas mãos, o chão se encheu de sangue...
mas finalmente ela sorriu

quinta-feira, julho 15, 2004

cansei

os trapos...os cortes...as letras...
a sujeira...a dor de palavras incopreendidas...
agora...um pouco mais forte.
Melancolia...Desespero
tudo-ao-mesmo-tempo-agora...
vivendo(?) sempre nos extremos...
mas agora é diferente...
quero desistir...está doendo muito esses cortes na minha alma.
Cansei de ser incompreendida....
Cansei de levar tapas na cara, ou me dar tapas na cara
quando tudo o que preciso seja um abraço, embora não mereça.
nunca mereci mesmo.
Na verdade nem sei se realmente quero.
A única certeza é a louca-mania-estúpida-incontrolável de sair gritando por aí...

quarta-feira, julho 07, 2004

Sultans Of Swing - Dire Straits

You get a shiver in the dark
It's raining in the park but meantime
South of the river you stop and you hold everything
A band is blowing Dixie double four time
You feel alright when you hear that music ring

You step inside but you don't see too many faces
Coming in out of the rain to hear the jazz go down
Competition in other places
But the horns be blowing that sound
Way on downsouth way on downsouth London town

You check out Guitar George he knows all the chords
Mind he's strictly rhythm he doesn't want to make it cry orsing
And an old guitar is all he can afford
When he gets up under lights to play his thing

And Harry doesn't mind if he doesn't make the scene
He's got a daytime job he's doing alright
He can play honky tonk like anything
Saving it up for Friday night
With the Sultans... with the Sultans of Swing

And a crowd of young boys they're fooling around in the corner
Drunk and dressed in their best brown baggies and their platformsoles
The don't give a damn about any trumpet playing band
It ain't what they call rock and roll
And the Sultans... Yea the Sultans played Creole ...Creole


Then the man he steps right up to the microphone
And says at last just as the time bell rings
'Goodnight, now it's time to go home'
And he makes it fast with one more thing
'We are the Sultans... We are the Sultans of Swing'

sexta-feira, julho 02, 2004

Always Somewhere - Scorpions

Arrive at seven the place feels good
No time to call you today
Encores till eleven then Chinese food
Back to the hotel again

I call your number the line ain't free
I like to tell you come to me
A night without you seems like a lost dream
Love I can't tell you how I feel

Always somewhere
Miss you where I've been
I'll be back to love you again

Another morning another place
The only day off is far away
But every city has seen me in the end
And brings me to you again

Always somewhere
Miss you where I've been
I'll be back to love you again