E eu queria poder acordar-te assim todas as manhãs com um beijo doce nas palpebras e brindar-te com o meu melhor sorriso mal abrisses os olhos, abraçar-te com força e por fim dizer-te ao ouvido que aquele dia também é teu. Aproveita-o.
Bom dia.
Sunday, March 26, 2006
Friday, March 24, 2006
Bang bang
I was five and he was six
We rode on horses made of sticks
He wore black and I wore white
He would always win the fight
Bang bang, he shot me down
Bang bang, I hit the ground
Bang bang, that awful sound
Bang bang, my baby shot me down.
Seasons came and changed the time
When I grew up, I called him mine
He would always laugh and say
"Remember when we used to play?"
Bang bang, I shot you down
Bang bang, you hit the ground
Bang bang, that awful sound
Bang bang, I used to shoot you down.
Music played, and people sang
Just for me, the church bells rang.
Now he's gone, I don't know why
And till this day, sometimes I cry
He didn't even say goodbye
He didn't take the time to lie.
Bang bang, he shot me down
Bang bang, I hit the ground
Bang bang, that awful sound
Bang bang, my baby shot me down...
Nancy Sinatra
We rode on horses made of sticks
He wore black and I wore white
He would always win the fight
Bang bang, he shot me down
Bang bang, I hit the ground
Bang bang, that awful sound
Bang bang, my baby shot me down.
Seasons came and changed the time
When I grew up, I called him mine
He would always laugh and say
"Remember when we used to play?"
Bang bang, I shot you down
Bang bang, you hit the ground
Bang bang, that awful sound
Bang bang, I used to shoot you down.
Music played, and people sang
Just for me, the church bells rang.
Now he's gone, I don't know why
And till this day, sometimes I cry
He didn't even say goodbye
He didn't take the time to lie.
Bang bang, he shot me down
Bang bang, I hit the ground
Bang bang, that awful sound
Bang bang, my baby shot me down...
Nancy Sinatra
Thursday, March 16, 2006
art
Edvard Munch Kyss
Oil on canvas,1897
John CollierLady Godiva
Salvador Dalí
Raphaelesque Head Exploding
Marc Chagall
Vincent Van GoghAlmond
GUSTAV KLIMT
(Austrian, 1862-1918)
The Kiss1907/08
Oil on canvas180 x 180 cm
Osterreicbiscbe Calerie Belvedere, Vienna
Mel RamosMonday, March 13, 2006
Just Like Water
Moving down the streams of my lifetime
Pulls the fascination in my sleeve
Cooling off the fire of my longing
Boiling off my cold within his heat
Melting down the walls of inhibition
Evaporating all of my fears
Baptizing me into complete submission
Dissolving my condition with his tears
He's just like the water
I ain't felt this way in years
He's just like the water
I ain't felt this way in years
Coursing through my senses, he's prevailing
Floating through the space of my design
Drowning me to find my inside sailing
Drinking in the mainstream of his mind
Filling up the cup of my emotions
Spilling over into all I do
If I only I could get lost in his ocean
Surviving on the thought of loving you
He's just like the water
I ain't felt this way in years
He's just like the water, the water
I ain't felt this way in years
Bathing in the fountain of his essence
He causes my expression to remain
Humbled on a mountain by his presence
Washing my intentions with his name
Sealing off the floodgates of his passions
Saving all his liquid for his own
Moisturizing me to satisfaction
In my imagination? No no!
He's pouring out his soul to me for hours and hours
Drawing out my nature with his hands
Yearning I'm so thirsty for his power
Burning to be worthy of his land
He's just like the water
I ain't felt this way in years
He's just like the water
I ain't felt this way in years
Cleaning me
He's purging me
And moving me around
He's bathing me
And he's claiming me
And moving me around
Around and around and around
And around
Watching me, claiming me
Moving me around
He's purging me
He's been cleaning me
And moving me around
And around
Lauryn Hill
Saturday, March 11, 2006
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