sticks and stones & the broken bones

"O sonho não é apenas uma comunicação (e eventualmente uma comunicação cifrada), é também uma actividade estética, um jogo de imaginação que tem um valor próprio. O sonho é a prova de que imaginar, sonhar com o que nunca existiu, é uma das necessidades mais profundas do homem. Essa é a razão do pérfido perigo que se oculta no sonho. Se o sonho não for belo, podíamos esquecê-lo depressa."

Milan Kundera, "A Insustentável Leveza do Ser"

"That fool who digs his own grave

I'm still trying to find my way out!

But if it's the long way

I'll sleep in this bed I've made

The kids have fallen on blades

It's too late to figure out

It's too late for babies to beg for their beds"

Little Things

"Cry your eyes out
A lesson left unlearned
I wish I was airborne
Then I could watch it turn

They’ve taken everything
Hung us out to dry
They’ve taken every thing

Playing enemy
This is thought control

You’re a greasy little thing
You’ll scream before you sing
And you make a lot of noise
You lied about everything
You greasy little thing

I got with the program
I tried to fall in line
I wish I was drowning
Then I could watch you burn

They’ve taken everything
Hung us out to dry
They’ve taken every thing
Now you’re. . .

You’re a sneaky little thing
You’ll scream before you sing
And you make a lot of noise
You lied about everything
You sneaky little thing

When the tide rolls in
When the trapdoor starts to swing
When the swans have sung
I’ll be myself again"

P.S. - et voilá, um dos refrões mais viciantes do ano.

Collapse

"We are all soured milk
When we look in the mirror, we collapse
When our time has come
When our finger’s on the trigger, we collapse
Arms are flailing
Swirling like the poison in the sink


Like the Southern Belle
Playing songs of horror
Like teeth amongst the grass


Like the bullet shell
Whistle and I’ll hum
Watch the good folks run


We are all rotten fruit
When the pipeline starts to flowing, we collapse
When our time has come
When the courtyard needs a lynching, we collapse
Arms are failing
The devil’s in the eye of every man
Water and the well
A Baptist and a baby
Were rolling in the weeds


Keep her spirit well
The tarpit daughter’s father
Will lay her out to dry."



"The host of the show comes down
to collapse on the ground
and the crime scene revisits me
this body shut down in Bordeaux
and the shores of gold coast
on the balcony I search for sleep
the future has fallen short
when the sun sets north
and the clouds fall from the mirrored walls

Words speak and choose
make sense and lose
capsize the tall tale, but always fail
words speak and choose, make sense and lose
forfeit the tall tale, I always will

The host had his mouth sewn shut
all in the name of trust
when the blood goes thin, he's given in
you can spare us the formal toast
the drunken anecdotes
from this day on... goes on and on...
You know when he falls apart
he listens in the dark to the records turn
I'll never learn


To set it down
you'll set it down
you'll set it down


Words speak and choose
make sense and lose
capsize the tall tale, but always fail
words speak and choose, make sense and lose
forfeit the tall tale, I always will

To set it down
you'll set it down
you'll set it down
To set it down
you'll set it down
you'll set it down
To set it down

you'll set it down
you'll set it down!"

Take My Bones Away

(leva os nossos ossos dentro de um saco. eles chocalharão quando o sol sorrir ou te quisermos falar. aconchegar-te-ão quando a tua fúria te levar às lágrimas. orfã selvagem e sem terra, comê-la-ás para sentires que a tens, carregar-nos-ás para sentires que te amam. nós, despojos de um mundo destruído, amar-te-emos.)