em terra de sol, cinza, concreto e carvão existe a necessidade de vida que talvez não flutue pelos olhos redondos de quem quer ver... talvez esteja a espreita. talvez more no colorido das miçangas no camelô no largo treze, nas vendinhas de pastel ou nas asas coloridas das borboletas que não habitam mais esse lugar. talvez esteja na nossa ilusão.
.e eu tenho uma música guardada na manga para dias como esse, com sol, com concreto cinza e cheio de pitadas de realidade...
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Ghost de Ed Vedder e Jeff Ament
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The mind is grey like the city, packing in and overgrown
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The mind is grey like the city, packing in and overgrown
love is deep, dig it out
standing in a hole alone
working for something that one can never hold
a place in the clouds
a good place to hide oh my oh...
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so i'm flying (away, away)
driving (away, away)
finding, hoping,
ways i missed before
i missed before
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the tv, she talks to me
breaking news and building walls
selling me what i don't need
i never knew soap made you taller
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so i'm riding (away, away)
hiding (away, away)
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so much talk it makes no sense at all
my senses have gone... awol, awol, awol, awol...
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so i'm hiding (away, away)
driving (away, away)
passing new friends i won't know at all
won't know at all
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it doesn't hurt when i bleed
but my memories,
they eat me
i've seen it all before...
bring it on, cuz i'm no victim
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dying (away, away)
dying (away, away)
dying
dying...
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