sim. nós podemos?
quem foi o autorizador desta shit que repete o que dissemos
quando éramos novos e pequenos demos?
pá, fico fulo, fico puta... ai puta que
olha bem para o que fizemos!
para o legado que largamos... compreendes?
ficou aquém do que eu sempre disse
e do que tu defendes. quer dizer
o nosso homem do ano é o jorge mendes!
e ninguém liga puto ninguém liga cavaco
há quem diga 'pô, pára aí mulequi,
pára di enchê o saco!'
pô, nada, pá, porra!
somos a merda da sicília hispânica
curso tirado via ctt, pelo manual da gomorra!
e eu deixarei o passo no ponto em que o deixei
sem nome, sem aga grande, sem rock, sem rei
quanto a ti, amigo, caro, eu cá não sei
eu cá guardei uma porta pequena
para me enfiar e fugir
This is prophylaxis, a practiced absence, a safer distance. He is a fine clinician to diagnose this, a sound decision. This is a family practice, it's anesthetic, it's nonreactive. This is a termination, a fine resemblance, but no relation.
quinta-feira, janeiro 28, 2010
segunda-feira, janeiro 25, 2010
broken golden rules
"we call homer a myth because he based actions on gods;
we look at al-qaeda like cretins because they kill for allah;
and we elect a president who invokes christ with a gun.
if hypocrisy is beliefs minus actions,
then there are some long hard miles of answering to do
and a ways to run on our hands back to zero.
at home we extol the vote but stick a long bloody nose in elections around the world
when things haven't gone our way.
here comes hamas, there goes the NED.
the lesson, as always, is who cares about putting our money where our mouths are
as long as our mouths are where the money is.
it's a dog and pony show facilitated by an information gap;
they're capitalizing on capitalism in a social climate dominated by trivial bullshit and celebrity gossip.
all of this leaves us in a place where a political sleight of hand,
manipulation of emotion created by some well-timed tears of a justice-to-be's wife,
a color-coded system of controlled fear, a hostage, a gas spike, or a dead teenager from iowa,
creates a smoke screen for human rights violations and moral atrocities.
and the absolute worst part is that if you happen to have the wherewithal to look past it,
the only thing you find is that every day, every minute, every second,
it's getting worse than the worst you've ever thought or screamed.
to tell you the truth, these days, liberty is a luxury;
i've lowered the bar on battle cries:
give me honesty or give me death."
we look at al-qaeda like cretins because they kill for allah;
and we elect a president who invokes christ with a gun.
if hypocrisy is beliefs minus actions,
then there are some long hard miles of answering to do
and a ways to run on our hands back to zero.
at home we extol the vote but stick a long bloody nose in elections around the world
when things haven't gone our way.
here comes hamas, there goes the NED.
the lesson, as always, is who cares about putting our money where our mouths are
as long as our mouths are where the money is.
it's a dog and pony show facilitated by an information gap;
they're capitalizing on capitalism in a social climate dominated by trivial bullshit and celebrity gossip.
all of this leaves us in a place where a political sleight of hand,
manipulation of emotion created by some well-timed tears of a justice-to-be's wife,
a color-coded system of controlled fear, a hostage, a gas spike, or a dead teenager from iowa,
creates a smoke screen for human rights violations and moral atrocities.
and the absolute worst part is that if you happen to have the wherewithal to look past it,
the only thing you find is that every day, every minute, every second,
it's getting worse than the worst you've ever thought or screamed.
to tell you the truth, these days, liberty is a luxury;
i've lowered the bar on battle cries:
give me honesty or give me death."
- Dear Tonight
quinta-feira, janeiro 21, 2010
"The Union Jack has bled away.
Its black and white and its fucking grey.
The cells are cold,
The streets are the same,
Its been a dead summer and were praying for rain.
Your heart of gold is dead and cold,
and you wonder when your dreams got old.
Walk yourselves down to the flames,
And throw you knifes in so that this can end."
- Gallows
Its black and white and its fucking grey.
The cells are cold,
The streets are the same,
Its been a dead summer and were praying for rain.
Your heart of gold is dead and cold,
and you wonder when your dreams got old.
Walk yourselves down to the flames,
And throw you knifes in so that this can end."
- Gallows
quarta-feira, janeiro 20, 2010
'Bliss In Concrete'
trágica sinfonia. mega sanfona. pássaros abatidos. sorrisos máscara-de-madeira. farsa máxima. e um coração do tamanho do mundo todo ele feito de pedra.
terça-feira, janeiro 19, 2010
O Novo Cruzado de Dom Cavaco
Santa Lopes condecorado com a Grã-Cruz da Ordem de Cristo pelos serviços prestados ao país no exercício das funções de chefe de governo (funções essas, adquiridas de pára-quedas, e perdidas, poucos meses depois, nas urnas).
A notícia aqui.
segunda-feira, janeiro 11, 2010
tempo a mais dá em dúvidas destas
Será sintomático que certo tipo de homens quando amam têm tendência a despedir-se com um até logo ou um até já, e quando não se preocupam, com um vulgar adeus? Mesmo que se despeçam para ir tomar café, quer para nunca mais voltar? Ou serei eu a pintar o mundo com as cores das minhas dúvidas?
sábado, janeiro 09, 2010
quinta-feira, janeiro 07, 2010
malditos politeístas!
"É com profunda tristeza e desolação que vejo que em todos os fóruns internacionais, a Europa está sempre representada por várias vozes e tem variadas posições"
- José Sócrates in http://jn.sapo.pt/PaginaInicial/Nacional/Interior.aspx?content_id=1464060
- José Sócrates in http://jn.sapo.pt/PaginaInicial/Nacional/Interior.aspx?content_id=1464060
quarta-feira, janeiro 06, 2010
needle
amanhecia numa malograda tchetchênia. um sol branco sem nome rendia a paz armada da noite. o mundo simulava normalidade. e o medo era os universais bom dia e como passou. crianças limpavam brinquedos para uma nova batalha. a guerra era ninguém as ouvir. a guerra era a inutilidade do grito mais bramido. a guerra era o despojo de um russo longe de casa. todo o sentido daquilo estava nas casas e na poeira do chão que o frio nunca abandonava. as mãos gretadas, contrastando com luvas ensanguentadas eram a única revolta daquele secular círculo vicioso que já nem os sábios sabiam distinguir quando começara. mas que, os mesmos sábios sabiam, ir repetir-se prolongado, quantos mais meios dias de fins de tréguas fulminassem aquele sol que quando nascia era para todos e que quando chegava ao pico era só para os que continuassem de pé.
terça-feira, janeiro 05, 2010
que questões de soberanias, estas...
"Is sovereignty like property, which can be given up only when another person gains it? Or should we think of it more like virginity, something that can be lost by one without another's gaining it - and whose loss in apt circumstances can even be a matter for celebration?"
- Neil McCormick, in 'Questioning Sovereignty'
segunda-feira, janeiro 04, 2010
music.
"i know it only happened cos i couldnt stop DRINKING
it only happened cos i couldn't drink MORE!
he took a picture of the ugly scene
and made stupid threats, YEAH!, you know what i mean
i only hit him cos he made me CRAZY!
i only hit him cos he made me MAD!
she only hit him cos it gets her wet, YEAH!
she's one of a kind she's got CHIN MUSIC!
the boy wears it well
you never can...
i knew i couldn't stop it so i didn't die TRYING
i couldn't stop it so i didn't think TWICE
he wasn't heading for a glittering life
he's just a ONE-TOWN MAN with a ONE-MAN WIFE
i only hit him cos he made me CRAZY
i only hit him cos he made me MAD
she only hit him cos it gets her wet, YEAH!
she's ONE OF A KIND she's got CHIN MUSIC!
the boy wears it well
you never can..."
- Future Of The Left
it only happened cos i couldn't drink MORE!
he took a picture of the ugly scene
and made stupid threats, YEAH!, you know what i mean
i only hit him cos he made me CRAZY!
i only hit him cos he made me MAD!
she only hit him cos it gets her wet, YEAH!
she's one of a kind she's got CHIN MUSIC!
the boy wears it well
you never can...
i knew i couldn't stop it so i didn't die TRYING
i couldn't stop it so i didn't think TWICE
he wasn't heading for a glittering life
he's just a ONE-TOWN MAN with a ONE-MAN WIFE
i only hit him cos he made me CRAZY
i only hit him cos he made me MAD
she only hit him cos it gets her wet, YEAH!
she's ONE OF A KIND she's got CHIN MUSIC!
the boy wears it well
you never can..."
- Future Of The Left
domingo, janeiro 03, 2010
"Cause you tear us apart, with all the things you don't like.
You can't understand that I won't leave 'til we're finished here, and then you'll find out where it all went wrong.
Nothing lasts forever, except you and me. (You are my mountain, you are my sea)
Love will last forever, between you and me.(You are my mountain, you are my sea)
I am a mountain, I am the sea, you can't take that away from me.
I am a mountain, I am the sea.
I am a mountain, I am the sea!"
- Biffy Clyro
sexta-feira, janeiro 01, 2010
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