Don't give it to the golden

feel the music on the bar
a voice on the backs and there you are
flaten down on the ground
and no one to drive you out

out of this madness
into something worth
ou of the sadness
find something worth

i cannot figure out a thing to do
whenever you say i'm the one
and i hate it when you say it
you do it just like everyone else

"he has lost himself
he used to be the golden one
the lover and the good family boy
but now he's on the ground
another needle he has stuck in
maybe this is the last one
he used to be the golden one"

the colors long ran out of me
the empty fills everything else and then
whats left? the void inside my soul is you
you are all the things that once i cared for
every warm thing long corrupted and broken
but i used to be the golden one

never wanted to be the exemple
always wanted a part in the show
but always the broken ones made much more sense
but why to i say it in past tense?
they still do

another drink the chance of paradise
wouldn't do it if i was wise
but sitting here from the highs
thats the only way to climb out

out of this madness
into something worth
out of the sadness
find something worth

"little golden boy is no longer for the go
had something related to his lungs but don't worry
he'll be back anytime soon
he'll be here to perform on the show once again"

never wanted to be the exemple
always wanted a part in the show
but always the broken ones made much more sense
but why to say it in past tense?
they still do

Toca, Toca.

O telefone toca.

E eu aqui, me matando para expremer meus pensamentos em frases com mais de três palavras.
E o telefone a tocar, levando minha mente para longe.
"Quem será, do outro lado da linha?"

E eu aqui, mãos no teclado, as pernas agitadas fazendo a cadeira ranger de modo irritante.
Como traduzir meus pensamentos em frases diferentes daquela tantas vezes dita, tão fútil em forma e complexidade, mas tão cheia de significados e olhares, beijos e abraços vulgares?
E o telefone tocando, a cabeça latejando e a frase derradeira em minha consciência:
"Só quem vive pode escrever"
E eu agora precisando viver.

Será que o inconveniente chamado não vai cessar nunca?
Ah! Malditas palavras, que nessas horas parecem fugir de mim como se eu fosse a cruz.

E nós dois, como água e vinagre, temos tanto em comum mas para sempre fadados ao desencontro e à repulsa.
15:15, e é por você que meu coração pulsa.

E o telefone insistente me tira do transe.

Tchau, fui viver.

19 de Março de 2009

Groundless, Restless

A sweet untouched smile
naive enough to break me down
Your voice so cristal clear
bumps warmth into my ears

And when you laugh
I feel all my efforts
were worth their cost
I wanna make you laugh
with your heart full of joy

If only for a second
your pain could go away
from deep inside I hope
that it may
so you can feel the world as it is
all the collors collapsed into one
all the happiness in a touch of your tongue

And when you laugh
I feel all my efforts
were worth their cost
I wanna make you laugh
with your heart full of joy

Take my heart and do what you will
embrace my love and do what you will
cuz all I care is to make you happy

And if you laugh
I'll know all my efforts
were worth their cost
I'll have made you laugh
with your heart full of joy

A sweet untouched smile
enough to break me down
you made my ground disappear
now I don't have
any other fears

09 de Março 2009

Em Resposta:

Live to love.
You can only love if you're alive
and they'll only love you if you dare to live

So defy them
laugh over their rules
And show them only the part of yourself you want to be seen
someday the other part will show up
but then it will be already too late

Overcome the dificulties as you can
or at least pretend they are meaningless and you are bigger than 'em
And in the night you'll cry out for a nevercoming help
an aid you can only get from the inside.

Than it is another day already
and again there will be only smiles and shining eyes from you.
After a while you'll get used
and eventually grow tired of asking for help.

That's when you'll look back smiling
you'll have found the help within.
And they'll love you for what you've become.

3 de Março de 2009

Cheap 'n Nasty

Into it with all my heart
Give it all cuz there's no one left
Nothing left to us

It may be cheap 'n dirty
Let's not care
Maybe I'm just being flirty
So what?

How can you say I'm letting you go?
If I don't even know who I am
Do you think I'm giving in?
I don't even know myself
Help me now, babe, if you can
Cuz I don't even know myself

Drink it down there is no rest
The world is spinning now so fast
Rush it in cuz life won't last
So we'd better give our best
Drink away the scars of the past

Prejudice may go to hell
You don't even know yourself
We don't even know ourselves
We don't even know ourselves

Judge me if you dare
In the end you're the only one who cares
I won't even know yourself

1 de Março de 2009

Different

She looks meaningless
She cries at every guess
She thinks no one cares
at all

She believes in a greater good
she never changes her mood
hidden inside a hood
of pain

How long since the sun has bit her face
Infinite tears in a sea of desperation
Broken worlds of exasperation
Than comes an insight

Looking for a way to break her limits
Any harm will fit
All the odds feel perfect on her mind

Wasted every chance
Refused every dance
Threw away her lungs
Deep inside she believes
she is different
maybe no one cares

This story has already been told
All of us already know
She is not the only one
She is not the only one
She is no longer alone
She has found something to fight
to prove that she deserves a throne
It's our godforgiven right
We already know
No longer we are alone

But she is different
maybe no one cares at all.

26 de fevereiro de 2009

Moda

Tá na moda escrever sobre sexo.
Sexo tá na moda.
Crianças preparadas para este mercado desde cedo.
Adolescentes depravados com apenas um objetivo se juntam em festas, usam de seus truques mais sórdidos para alcançá-lo.
Não há mais o mesmo ar de bondade no olhar daquele vizinho.
Não há mais todo aquele cortejo de flores e olhares nas semanas antecedentes.
Não há mais a frustração do desejo reprimido, seguida pela expectativa e deleite na imaginação.
Apenas gritos e arranhões,
gemidos e palavrões.
e no outro dia apenas a porta da rua.

"foda-se"

04/02/2009