de regresso a casa, a "rádio memória" fixou-se nesta sintonia:
[Ani di Franco, Dilate]
(...)
So I'll walk the plank And I'll jump with a smile
If I'm gonna go down I'm gonna do it with style
And you won't see me surrender You won't hear me confess
'Cuz you've left me with nothing But I've worked with less
And I learn every room long enough To make it to the door
And then I hear it click shut behind me
And every key works differently I forget everytime
And forgetting defines me
That's what defines me
When I say you sucked my brain out The English translation
is I am in love with you And it is no fun
But I don't use words like love 'Cuz works like that don't matter
But don't look so offended You know, you should be flattered
And I wake up in the night In some big hotel bed
And my hands grope for the light And my hands grope for my head
The world is my oyster The road is my home
And I know that I'm better Off alone
1 comentário:
Se fosse Macho... do mal o menos!...
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