quarta-feira, fevereiro 07, 2007

tic-tac

É preciso chegar antes.
pontual, exatamente no ponto.
preciso, e pra ontem!

o tiro
há de ser certeiro.
Preciso.

Porque eu, que preciso, premedito,
testo métodos, reinvento maneiras;
Guardo como preciosos os parcos rastros de imprecisão
desse nosso precipício
pra transformar em flores suaves
teus dizeres tão duramente

precisos.

terça-feira, fevereiro 06, 2007

:~

A whistler on the subway
reminded me that tune
I heard the first time
around that time I fell in love with you
The picture in the paper of buildings in that town
we spent our (?) honeymoon
and tears come running down

signaling what I have been denying for too long
I have not and will never move on

the books of the nineteen-twenty's
of lovers torn by war
engages moves and touches me like no other book before
but never was I drafted
I chose that woman's cell
as you went on to find your love with many other men
and it's only now that I beggin to understand
what I carelessly let slip out of my hands

our breakup did not brake me
my life was on a road
I saw no need for questions
when the answer could be no

I thought I could find another you
but there is only one
and I only dare to tell you this in song.
I have not and I will never move on.




não é criação minha.


sabe aquela sensação de que quando o momento passa,
ele passa...
e só ficam os rastros.
é.
deixa pra lá.