segunda-feira

Rising...




A morte é uma libertação 
quando a dor tolhe os gestos 
e colhe de mansinho todas as flores com que me perfumas a existência. 
É então que saio de mim 
e me elevo 
ao sabEr do vento 
com o teu sabor na pele 
e nas mãos 
as palavras que nunca me ouviste.

I got caught in a storm
And carried away
I got turned, turned around
I got caught in a storm
That's what happened to me
So I didn't call
And you didn't see me for a while
I was rising up
Hitting the ground
And breaking and breaking

I was caught in a storm
Things were flying around
And doors were slamming
And windows were breaking
And I couldn't hear what you were saying
I was rising up
Hitting the ground
And breaking and breaking

Rising up