segunda-feira, 8 de abril de 2013

pensamentos de uma madrugada eterna

Eu quis te convencer, mas chega de insistir
Caberá ao nosso amor o que há de vir
Pode ser a eternidade má
Caminho em frente pra sentir saudade

When my room is a mess and the crack of floor next to my bed is full of washed and dirty clothes, of notebooks and papers and my feelings exposed on the floor, I feel the mess and the “Floor State" of my mind. When I go for long walks, I hear the melodies of artists that I dream to know, artists that I dream to learn from, artists that you used to criticize with a smile on your face and poking me. I often think of you, because the lyrics sound like your words when you whispered next to me, when we sat by the tennis court – at least that’s how I remember that place – and talked about fireflies.

Paper clips and crayons in my bed
Everybody thinks that I am sad
I'll take a ride in melodies and bees and birds
Will hear my words
Will be both us and you and them together

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