leave me, leave it all alone.
for joy, from unbound chains
into revolved frames
The waves, they never tell
when your faith lies in hell.
Wild beasts and sad feelings,
nothing's more appealing
Memories were all made of grains
and somehow I rememind scarlat cranes,
demanding my children
rotten and with flies filling.
When my motherly bless asked for less
Texto: Gil Santos
0 comentários:
Enviar um comentário