Post ultra-congelado #2 (21.01.2009)

Acontece-me frequentemente: escrevo, planeio, componho, mas não publico. Às vezes propositadamente, às vezes por traição da memória, atropelada pelas urgências do quotidiano. Mas este post merecia ter vivido. E agora faço-lhe o meu Frankenweenie juju, porque antes era triste, e agora é só bonito:








i'd like to touch you
but i've forgotten how
and said i didn't need you
but look at me now

sometime in the summmer
when we're lying in the breeze
the breeze will kill me
the breeze will kill me

i tried to follow
the path that you're on
something in me is stubborn
i keep going wrong

if you can forgive me now
we'll meet up in another land
when the breeze has killed me
when the breeze has killed me

some time in the summer
when we're lying in the grass
and the breeze
and the breeze

oh my baby cries
when he's tired
mu puppy howls
with the moon

you can never be sure of
the people that you know
they don't wanna show you
their sadness

yesterday i talked with
my father
he said that we could
never win

it's so hard to tell
where i end
and my father begins

so if you see me passing by
please hold me deep
in your heart/arms
and just remember i wanna help you
i don't wanna hurt you

just remember i wanna help you
i don't wanna hurt you
so don't tear it apart

my baby cries
when he's tired
my puppy howls
with the moon


Bill Callahan | The Breeze/My Baby Cries