I keep going round and round on the same old circuit.
A wire travels underground to a vacant lot.
Where something I can't see interrupts the current.
And shrinks the picture down to a tiny dot.
And from behind the screen, it can look so perfect.
But it's not.

So here im sittin in my car at the same old stop light.
I keep waiting for a change, but I don't know what.
So red turns into green, turning into yellow.
But I'm just frozen here on the same old spot.
And all I have to do is press the pedal.
But I'm not. No I'm not.

Well people are tricky,
You can't afford to show,
anything risky, anything they don't know.
The moment you try, well kiss it goodbye.

So baby kiss me like a drug, like a respirator.
And let me fall into the dream of the astrounaut.
Where I get lost in space that goes on forever.
And you make all the rest just an after thought.
And I believe it's you who could make it better.
But it's not. No it's not.


Aimee Mann | It's not
Lost in Space, 2002

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estou semi-desfeita. por todo o lado, os corpos ardem. a própria noite está em chamas. algo em mim se parte e dói. o amor é um lugar estranho, e também eu sou estranha a este lugar na terra. algo parecido com as dores de crescimento, o corpo em aguda metamorfose. a inquietação rasga o tecido frágil que me separava do medo.