Shoot my harp, kill my song. Hear my moan.
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Uma noite comum também para os meus olhos, que vêem a tinta do que não escreveram a escorrer, borrada pelas macabras gotas que caem do céu. Aí sim, as intenções se tornam palavras: molho a pena na chuva negra, firo a minha língua, e com a boca e a pena em sangue, transmito as palavras que me iam nas veias mas que a língua não queria soltar.
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2014
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janeiro
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- Almost Blue
- The world spins backwards everyday...
- Shoot my harp, kill my song. Hear my moan.
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- And when they've given you their all Some stagger ...
- And when they've given you their all Some stagger ...
- And when they've given you their all Some stagger ...
- And when they've given you their all Some stagger ...
- And when they've given you their all Some stagger ...
- And when they've given you their all Some stagger ...
- And when they've given you their all Some stagger ...
- And when they've given you their all Some stagger ...
- And if your head explodes in dark forbodings too, ...
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janeiro
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