Vallkkyer

Silenceiam-se as valkirias

2008-12-18T14:38:00.000-08:00

If you saw the blade come and slice my wrist

would you come and take it away?

Every word you dug a fist

On such a dammed day

I bleed to death for all I care

If blood drains my pain away

No-one would try to stop who would dare?

to keep this lost life for another day...

Drop

the red bleeds from me

I erase all pain

becoming Dead

Fear not as I am set free

I paid to get off my head

The wound inside did not heal

untill life become pain

dear devil couldn't honour the deal

and I become insane

in living I found no will

in living I become sad

why did you steal

all the joy I ever had

Please mistake me not

as consciusness fades from the brain

you killed but finished not

so I'll end up my pain

In every word in every gesture

until you walked through me with blind eyes

a last farewell torture

Suits you, or is are this my so called lies

so my wrists lost strengh and I cannot end my dying will

I was overcome by my own salvation

it hurts, it hurts still

have I been cursed to eternal damnation?

Vallkkyer were the hymns

of nordic heroic warriors

stars read their signs

and a dying memory from my horrors

HUrt

2008-12-05T13:53:00.000-08:00

It's been said even by myself that you are not the one to blame as it's not your fault, nor your intent

Somehow that doesn't ease the pain.

And if there's no one to blame then how come it hurts me so.

Still how to hold such as responsible for their actions when their not their own.

however, is there any point in my soul bleeding it's agony to the very end....

It might seem odd but if anyone stubles upon this thoughts then they would have lost it's meaning, as they shall be no longer mine, their beauty lies in the possibility of remaning forever forgoten.

So i crall back to my painfull existence.

if...

Blue & Red

2008-12-04T10:42:00.000-08:00

Yeah, I followed her to the station with a suitcase in my hand

Well, it's hard to tell, it's hard to tell, but all true love's in vain

When the train come in the station I looked her in the eye

Well, I felt so sad and lonesome that I could not help but cry

When the train left the station, it had two lights on behind

Well, the blue light was my baby and the red light was my mind

All my love's in vain

There's no need for you to say you're sorry

Goodbye I'm going home

I don't care no more so don't you worry

Goodbye I'm going home

I hate the way that even though you

Know you're wrong you say you're right

I hate the books you read and all your friends

Your music's shite it keeps me up all night

I hate the way that you are so sarcastic

And you're not very bright

You think that everything you've done's fantastic

Your music's shite it keeps me up all night

There's no need for you to say you're sorry

Goodbye I'm going home

I don't care no more so don't you worry

Goodbye

I'm going

home

RIDE

2008-12-02T12:08:00.000-08:00

I am the passenger
And I ride and I ride
I ride through the citys backside
I see the stars come out of the sky
Yeah, theyre bright in a hollow sky
You know it looks so good tonight
I am the passenger
I stay under glass
I look through my window so bright
I see the stars come out tonight
I see the bright and hollow sky
Over the citys a rip in the sky
And everything looks good tonight

And everything was made for you and me
All of it was made for you and me
cause it just belongs to you and me
So lets take a ride and see whats mine

La femme

2008-11-30T04:09:00.000-08:00

Ne me quitte pas

Il faut oublier

Tout peut s'oublier

Oublier le temps

Des malentendus

et les temps perdu

a savoir comment

Oublier ces heures

qui tuaient parfois

A coups de porquoi

Le coeur du bonheur

Ne me quite pas

Was it?

2008-11-28T11:40:00.000-08:00

Getting crazy on the waltzers but its life that choose
Sing about the sixblade sing about the swiGetting crazy on the waltzers but its life that choose
Sing about the sixblade sing about the switchback and a torture tattoo
And I been riding on a ghost train where the cars they scream and slam
And I dont know Ill be tonight but Id always tell you where I amtchback and a torture tattoo
And I been riding on a ghost train where the cars they scream and slam
And I dont know Ill be tonight but Id always tell you where I am

There is a light that never goes out

2008-11-09T12:27:00.000-08:00

Empety and Numb

2008-11-08T14:02:00.000-08:00

Let me bite the cold barrel of a gun,

and let it bark to my eternal rest.

Let eternal sleep take this son,

as in this life I've done my best.

Tired have my eyes long time become.

And my soul empety and numb

I have no strenght left to fight.

The world is meaningless and no longer mine.

The hope is darkness of it's shatered light,

A Death sings it's hymn

Tired has my soul long become.

It's only empety and numb.

Other's will come, others will live,

and their steps will make the earth turn.

All mistakes I forgive.

But I've got no place left to run.

She

2008-10-22T14:20:00.000-07:00

She's hearing voices call her
She's hearing voices warn her
She just can't sleep in her bed
She just can't sleep
She's falling down the stairs
She's tearing out her hair
She's screaming my name, in the night
To keep her warm

I can't eat, I can't sleep
I can't sleep, I can't dream
An aversion to light
Got a fear of the ocean

Like drinking poison,

like eating glass

It's so cold in this house

and I can't go meet her

We've got crosses on our eyes
Been walking into the walls again
We've got crosses on our eyes
Been walking into the furniture
We've got crosses on our eyes
For richer, for poorer, for better, for worse
We've got crosses on our eyes
We've been walking into the furniture

I am trying to be heroic,
In an age of modernity.
I am trying to be heroic,
because all around me history sings.

Oh how our parents
they suffered for nothing
Live the dream, live the dream, live the dream
Like the 80s never happened.
People are afraid, are afraid
To merge on the freeway.
Disappear here

Stroll the pier

into the magazine launch party.

I am handed a pill,

and I swallow with complete disdain.

But in my heart,
I am lukewarm;
nothing ever really touches me.

There was a sense of disappointment as we sped away
Every town now just felt the same
The tear on my cheek just dried up; it wasn't there
All the young people looked the same

I love you in the morning ,
When you're still hung-over
I love you in the morning,

Walk into the room

2008-10-07T12:16:00.000-07:00

Somethin’ filled up
my heart with nothin’,
someone told me not to cry.

But now that I’m older,
my heart’s colder,
and I can see that it’s a lie.

Children wake up,
hold your mistake up,
before they turn the summer into dust.

If the children don’t grow up,
our bodies get bigger but our hearts get torn up.
We’re just a million little god’s causin rain storms turnin’ every good thing to rust.

I guess we’ll just have to adjust.

With my lighnin’ bolts a glowin’
I can see where I am goin’ to be
when the reaper he reaches and touches my hand.

The Lucky 7

2008-10-03T15:19:00.000-07:00

Yeah but nobody searches
And nobody cares somehow
When the loving that you've wasted
Comes raining from a hapless cloud
Then I might stop and look upon your face
Disappear in the sweet, sweet gaze
See the living that surrounds me
Dissipate in a violet blaze

Can't you see what you've done to my heart,
and soul?
It's just a wasteland now

We've spies, we've slow hands
Put the waste around yourself
We've spies, oh yeah we've slow hands
You put the waste all around yourself, now

I submit my incentive is romance
I watched the pole dance of the stars
We rejoice because the hurting is so painless
From the distance of passing cars
But I am married to your charms and grace
I just go crazy like the good old days
You make me want to pick up a guitar
And celebrate the myriad ways that I love you

Can't you see what you've done to my heart,
and soul?
It's just a wasteland now

We've spies, yeah we've slow hands
You put the waste all around yourself
We've spies, oh yeah we've slow hands
Killers for hire you know that yourself

We've spies, we've slow hands
You put the waste all around yourself
We've spies, oh yeah we've slow hands
We retire like nobody else

Suburban Dreams

2008-04-13T02:51:00.000-07:00

A voz carregada do sotaque se Alex Turner canta, as guitarras docemente distorcidas criam uma teia de textura como as paredes de cimento sujas de fumo, humidade e marcas alheias ao tempo que as apaga. Caminho por entre elas, caminho para casa por entre a leve chuva e o frio caminho para o meu quarto onde me rodeio de palavras e sonhos escritos á beira duma sequência e acordes e notas entrelaçadas como os velhos tijolos da casa onde outrora morei.
Na casa onde outrora vivi, na casa onde te senti me deitei a teu lado e nos abraçamos. Depois passamos por uma leve sombra das escassas árvores que enfeitam um subúrbio caminhámos de mãos dadas por entre memórias histórias velhos conhecidos e testemunhas anónimas do nosso amor. Nem tudo é feio o sol também brilha por entre prédios velhos, dormitórios da força de trabalho, o céu consegue ser tão belo como os teus olhos e o teu sorriso abafa os sons da violência, da dor dos gritos e o ruído surdo do tráfico.
Acordar nos teus braços é uma memória indescritível o sentimento de pertença e de comunhão que sinto junto a ti. Não fazia ideia de onde estava, de porque havia em cima de mim um céu diferente dos que me rodeavam, agora compreendo tudo, o meu passado o futuro, o universo tudo agora é tudo lógico e linear. Tu e eu, nós. perfeito.

There a thousand things that i can't put out in words, but you know them somehow

2008-03-26T14:31:00.000-07:00

Well shes walking through the clouds
With a circus mind thats running round
Butterflies and zebras
And moonbeams and fairy tales
Thats all she ever thinks about
Riding with the wind.

When Im sad, she comes to me
With a thousand smiles, she gives to me free
Its alright she says its alright
Take anything you want from me, anything
Anything.

Fly on little wing.

If I could put my soul into the guitar
like the genious soul of Hendrix, that
eaten the sun and gave it back though his music.

I would write a song myself

Que te faria sem duvida jus.

Worn out and ready to go

2008-03-02T13:18:00.000-08:00

Sitting target
Sitting waiting
Anticipating
Nothing

Life
Is full of surprises
It advertises
Nothing

What am I trying to do
What am I trying to say
I'm not trying to tell you anything
You didn't know
When you woke up today

Sitting target
Sitting praying
God is saying
Nothing
Nothing

Always
Knows the prospects
Learn to expect
Nothing
Oh no
Nothing
oh oh.

Remember the laugh of soft mad children?
Tonight I felt the world
the dark surronds
all arround the night sings it's sounds
Can you look through my eyes girl?
can you see behind them?
time takes it's crazy train
inside me it feel likes rain

and this has nothing to do with me and you
but tonight i fell nothing at all
.
...
...
.

I Know It's Over

2008-01-25T06:28:00.000-08:00

Lyrics by Stephen Morrissey
Music by Johnny Marr

Oh Mother, I can feel the soil falling over my head
And as I climb into an empty bed
Oh well. Enough said.
I know it's over - still I cling
I don't know where else I can go
Oh ...
Oh Mother, I can feel the soil falling over my head
See, the sea wants to take me
The knife wants to slit me
Do you think you can help me ?
Sad veiled bride, please be happy
Handsome groom, give her room
Loud, loutish lover, treat her kindly
(Though she needs you
More than she loves you)
And I know it's over - still I cling
I don't know where else I can go
Over and over and over and over
I know it's over
And it never really began
But in my heart it was so real
And you even spoke to me, and said :
"If you're so funny
Then why are you on your own tonight ?
And if you're so clever
Then why are you on your own tonight ?
If you're so very entertaining
Then why are you on your own tonight ?
If you're so very good-looking
Why do you sleep alone tonight ?
I know ...
'Cause tonight is just like any other night
That's why you're on your own tonight
With your triumphs and your charms
While they're in each other's arms..."
It's so easy to laugh
It's so easy to hate
It takes strength to be gentle and kind
Over, over, over, over
It takes guts to be gentle and kind
Over, over
Love is Natural and Real
But not for you, my love
Not tonight, my love
But not for such as you and I, my love
Oh Mother...

Banquete de Espinhas literárias

2007-12-08T10:39:00.000-08:00

Tomar a vida por caleidoscópios
em vez de olhos.
Senti-la atrás de luvas
que cobrem o local onde outrora,
se encontravam as mãos.

Correr em busca de timbre
ou atrás de saLas de folhos.
Tomá-la num copo onde
já beberam e saciaram muitas
outras mãos.

E tudo de mistura
numa cornucópia de cores.

Das quais se distinguem as almas e os amores.

Do nosso Ser.

Midnight whITE bLues

2007-11-13T13:35:00.000-08:00

Come on Mama, Come on Mama,

I Don't wanna, I don't wanna,

Wonder why Wonder Why,

We love and die, love and die.

Show me MAma, Show me

Mama,

It's the everyday that drives me mad, but only you get me this sad.

i Wish i could. Understand Life or at least don't feel

blind by the light.

The music jumps from the riff to verse,

the riff to verse,

As my mind grows even

worse

Suppermassive BlackHole Incoming

2007-10-22T09:44:00.000-07:00

We put this festival on you bastards!

With a lot of love, we worked for one year for you, pigs.

And you want to break our walls down?

you want to fuckin' destroy us?

well you go to hell.

Planos para sexta á noite

2007-10-10T13:25:00.000-07:00

This scene is dead, but I'm still restless
An hour or so until last call, I guess
I shouldn't even be here, much less
Drinking myself into excess

I'm not going home till I'm done

Well come on, we can't go on
Well come on, you can't go home
The night is young
I'm blacking out
But it's been
Fun

Well everything's another excuse
To keep from doing what I want too
Like I would really love to kiss you
But I guess I'm in no condition

I'm not going home with no-one

Well I said that's it I'm not going home with no-one

Amnhã talvez.

2007-09-23T13:04:00.000-07:00

Senti.me inquieto, alterado e perante o incomodo procurei algo o que era não importava. Vi esta caneta casualmente pousada e pensei: Que farei eu com ela?

É, pois isso se tornou, a interrogação que me consome de forma absurda, intoxica o meu dia impedindo.me de alcançar o que quer que seja.

Na nossa era resta-nos apenas fazer um plágio charmoso e elegante daquilo que se encontra antes de nós, no entanto de nada serve fazê-lo ou fazer qualquer barulho que seja se nada nunca é escutado.

As emoções que tenho e chamo de minhas, que quero sintetizar em prosa ou em verso para que não se percam em vão nem se afundem em mim já foram imortalizadas dessa maneira e com palavras e sonoridades mais genuínas e agradáveis, superiores á minha.

Gosto de levar as coisas um mínimo a serio de tal forma se pode tornar demasiado. Talvez me envolva demais, de forma profunda naquilo que verdadeiramente pretendo gostar apenas para depois me decepcionar com as minha expectativas. Deixo.me embriagar pela minha escrita e pela minha sonoridade permitindo que elas me levem aos limites do meu Ego deixando.me a alma exausta e ao mesmo tempo extasiada.

Da mesma forma abro.me e ofreço.me para que outrem me tome e por momentos comunhe

comigo, libertado.me de mim mesmo.

O primeiro faz com que me liberte para me prender à mediocridade que de mim nasce. De nada serve

revisitar-me, é demasiado decepcionante ver que o que outrora considerei belo afinal não o é...

no entanto destruir o que criei é extremamente doloroso a perda parece enorme, apesar de não o ser.

Esforço-me para fazer as minhas relações resultar, mas não tem sido ser fácil encontrar alguém que compreenda,

ou que sinta o mundo duma forma pelo menos semelhante.

Há raparigas maiores que outras e definitivamente há certamente raparigas menores

e mais centradas em si próprias, castrando-se assim do mundo e da vida que as poderia rodear, se assim desejassem.

Nada disto informa acerca da minha postura perante o outro corpo deitado a meu lado mas não importa agora.

Fugi já ao que faltava e importa não esquecer.

Bom, dado que nada que possa criar ou sentir é genuinamente posse e invenção minha é

imperativo, a fim de manter a coserência, rejeitar a arte, última arte contra a angústia e estranheza

que o mundo e vida em mim provocam.

Mas rejeitar a arte parece um custo enorme, pois é como rejeitar própria vida.

Há uma alternativa, aceitar que nada é novo posso plagiar sem remorso o velho, pois fá-lo-ei

de qualquer maneira quer importa que seja uma forma consciente ou inconsciente?

Nenhuma da opções parece boa. Não consigo encontrar vida que me satisfaça, nem uma a que

possa entregar a minha alma.

estou consciente de que daqui a anos futuros, olharei saudosamente para estas linhas e o sentim

ento terá desaparecido. Até lá basta ser moido lentamente pelas aspirações que se revelam cada

vez mais próximas do falhanço e do esquecimento. Estranharei então esta criatura que em temp

os viveu em mim.

Durante tempos, meu trunfo foi beber, fumar, desgraçar-me e perder-me de mim e da mente por

intoxicação da mesma.

Buscar um novo olhar sobre o mundo e acreditar que ele me levaria a bom rumo.

Nada disto ocorre no fundo, o hábito permanece sempre agrdável e elucidador, ainda que por vezes

capaz de moer o corpo das entranhas á cabeça.

O amor e falo dele por oposição á paixão pois toma um carácter mais serio. O amor esse estado de

alma leva-nos de um pico ao outro, entre a felicidade e a miséria. Óbvio que o sentimento que ele em

nós provoca depende da pessoa que escolhemos para em nós o despertar.

Sair da nossa mente para habitar o coração de outra pessoa é algo que se torna pedra basilar da nossa

vida, verdadeira e única razão de viver.

Ainda assim não nos pode salvar de nós próprios.

Time to Ramble On

2007-06-12T10:34:00.000-07:00

THE BLUE BUS, IS CALING US.
.
.
THE BLUE BUS, IS CA LIN G US.

.
.

DRIVER WHERE ARE YOU TAKING US?

12 YEARS running over the same old ground, fear after fear, the same old pain that drove you insane climbing the same old stairs, the same classrooms, mates and teachers... HERE WE'VE grown, CRIED, laughed, LIVED, loved, died, HATED and grown a little more.
There's a million memories worth telling, a million feelings worth reminding, a handful of friends worth keeping and a couple of toasts worth repeating. From the countless smokes behind the teachers back, to the kisses and cuddles on the empty corridors: high school the amazing freak show of life:

todo o conceito da adolescência e da infância da transição entre as duas, os sonhos e as lagrimas... os momentos de glória, as gargalhadas inimagináveis até ao choro, o sentimento de domínio e de que nos encontramos em casa até ao sabor amargo da derrota, da humilhação ou simplesmente do desprezo de que qualquer outro lugar seria melhor que aquele...

ai! o liceu

il collegio

a escola

Chamem-lhe o que lhe chamarem, digam o que disserem, eu vou ter saudades, je l'aime...

tudo desde a irritante dona elvira e da rosa ate aos cigarros nas azinhagas escondidos dos professores e dos prefeitos e dos curiosos... os jogos de futebol memoráveis e os para esquecer... as aulas sem duvida geniais, as em que dormi ou as em que estavamos a comer gelados, os furos os almoços, as tardes, os trabalhos.. tudo isto me faz sorrir agora olhando para trás...

há um ano desesperava por dali sair, sair da minha aldeia, há um milhão de aldeias como aquela , uma verdadeira ilha, ainda o quero... mas a hora da despedida é dificíl mesmo sabendo que um dia regressaremso de visita, agora aprecebi-me de tudo o que o lugar significa para mim. E de todas as pessoas que vou deixar de ver e contactar diariamente.

Mais vale nada aprender, nada mais fazer, mais vale nunca mais crescer.

Mas está chegada a hora finda e esgotado o tempo, temos de partir na conquista da terra deixando para trás os olhos lacrimejantes daqueles que nos acompanharam e viram crescer seguir o sulco de prata que deixamos no nosso rasto.

A todos obrigado.

adoro-vos

São uma grande e fulcral peça da minha vida nunca vos esquecerei, mesmo que a vossa voz já não escute e o vosso rosto não veja na minha mente, as minhas palavras e a vontade que há em mim encerrada hão de reflitir os vossos ensinamentos e ser um monumento a vossa existência.

12 anos

(foi uma vida, a minha, a nossa)
.
.
.
Bastava para fazer um whisky o que será que fez com uma geração?
colheita de 89

Sim, gosto de si...

2007-05-26T09:58:00.000-07:00

(04/05)
A noite passada senti braços verdadeiros a rodear-me o corpo, lábios que nos meus se juntavam e suspiros que palavras ternas murmuravam. Sim em casa de meus pais estiveste, na cidade onde nasci, no local onde cresci, mas ouviste-me quando te disse que por ti estava enamorado?

Quando com um beijo e mais outro, te estranhei só para momentos depois me faltares, ouviste-me?

Quando com versos e palavras agradavelmente conjugadas te mostrei o que por ti sentia, prometeste amar-me, juraste que assim te sentias que sem mim não viverias.

Na manhã seguinte a casa estava fria devido ás janelas abertas para que os vestígios do pecado da noite anterior se esvanecem esfriando assim a alma até esta ficar gelada. Ah! mas o meu quarto ainda tinha o teu cheiro e o meu copo o teu gosto. Os dias passam e ainda que por vezes estejas distante, a minha mente e os meus dias docemente envenenas...

Custa-me quando tão percocemente já sacrificas os nossos momentos, quando tenho de procurar teus olhos e os teus lábios, quando me sinto sozinho a fazer girar a nossa relação, quando o cansaço te invade e impede de fazeres o que sejas, quando sinto que não cuidas suficientemente bem de ti.

Desculpa se o que escrevo te parece duro ou se palavras pesadas levemente te atiro e com elas te magoo-o, sabes que a última coisa que desejo e ver-te magoada. No entanto mais importante do que concordares comigo, gosto que me digas que compreendes e apagues meus receios e pensamentos sombrios com carícias suaves e um beijo doce.

Verdadeiramente seu...

Gaita apanhei o vicío do Saramago mas ao menos termino com Douglas Adams

2007-04-11T11:26:00.000-07:00

Out there they're friends of mine what can i say I've known them for a long long time.
But they're not my oldest friends they might be some of those for who I bend the line.
Mata-se um homem que se afirma Senhor e Um com Deus, dois mil anos depois ainda se celebra a sua crucificação e possível ressurreição, reúne-se a família come-se bebe-se brinda-se. Um coelho traz-nos ovos de chocolate e recompensas sem razão aparente, seja Cristo Jesus homem Deus Pai filho Um Dois vida Morte corpo Alma imortal, a sua memória persegue-nos e continuará a perseguir-nos podemos ser muito indiferentes a muita coisa mas não a sua figura MAS NÃO a ele, Ele. Quem consegue seguir os seus passos no controlo das massas na marca que deixou (n)o mundo?
Nós os Hoi Polloi apenas marcamos aqueles que conhecemos e com que partilhamos momentos risos conversas caricias lagrimas amor romances ironias olhares gestos gritos vidas. Morremos dissipando-nos nas memórias daqueles que nos amaram e odiaram, nos desprezaram e que connosco se importaram, tudo o resto não vale nada, para que trabalhos empregos estudos livros bens fortunas, a derradeira hora de tudo isto nos despe mas não nos retira das memórias de outros. Aqui reside a glória da nossa condição, Jesus foi Deus, foi homem, não importa. A maneira como viveu e nos marcou merece o respeito. Merece um dia em que se seja humilde um dia de rejúbilo e um dia de sossego entre eles. merece.

Vives.
morres?
.42.
Qual era a pergunta outra vez?

Confidencias e lust for life

2007-02-23T09:06:00.000-08:00

Last night i dreamnt that somebody loved me, like before. Oh please please please let me get what i want this time. Nausea e esperança de viver, velhas historias de como ele ainda que velho a amava, (He'd still shag her he would still fuck her). Sem contar com estes dois todos eles viveram a sua vida como queriam para quem reprimir a minha? Versos que ha pouco se deliniaram tao belos na minha mente e agora não estão cá. Só uma memoria agradavel, contei-te os meus segredos as minhas origens, a minha historia as minhas estorias. Sentados num vao des escada da piramide fumado narguille despi-me para ti, para uma amiga mostrei-te a minha alma os meus ossos.
Soube bem.
Nada importa embora exista sempre o futuro e planos para a vida, tenho um momento ohm, zen de globalidade. Já o tive, voltarei a tê-lo. Mas agora tenho-o e tive-o ainda ha pouco. Comparas-me a um grande. Por outro lado i'm afraid i'm not very bright and i'm afraid i might.
Sai do metro rumo a casa o vento fresco acariciou-me a cara, vi a harley fukin davingson, ela sempre esteve la ou pelo menos ja há algum tempo. Lembro-me de como a pouco te disse she'll mary me when i'm older, temo-o e adoro-o. Amanha talvez.
Pronto ja esta tudo descrito tudo dito poderia ter terminado no paragrafo anterior ou ter explicado cada uma destas frases e torna mais belo, mas não me interessa a beleza, tenho de dominar a estetica tenho de dominar a minha mente os meus demonios o obscuro. Talvez Ainda Talvez.
repito

Estado do tempo e estado de espirito

2007-02-11T03:17:00.000-08:00

Coming down off the nova somewhere near the boiled egg that is Royal Albert Hall, we watch Paul's sun crossed with John's star and hold ice cream hands. Someone slipped on a cassette as the one you wanted left left with someone else but somehow it was cool because the music filled the shadows, you heard a sound that was a million miles away from fakery and a step away from your heart.
Just like it always did, this sound puts the swagger back into your step, the rush into your blood but somehow, and I don't know how, they had become deeper, wider soulful, better in their craft, inspired by so many things like a world that is tilting who knows where and the applause they always knew was theirs but waited so impatiently to receive. Words cut you from all angles, backed up by majestically and majestically to soothe the wounds inside.
As you are dragged inside on this trip abandon, you hear a council estate singing its heart out, you hear the clink of loose change that is never enough what you need, boredom and poverty, hours spent with a burnt out guitar, dirty pubs and cracked pavements, violence and love all rolled in one, and now all this.
At the ed you flip over and start again because now you are not isolated. They have gone to work so that you can go home. High above the day turns pink and you fell your feet lift above the ground as new roads open up in front of you. In this town the jury is always rigged ~but the people know. They always know the truth. Believe. Belief. Their morning glory.

Janeiro, o fim da musica

2007-01-08T12:59:00.000-08:00

As soon as your born they make you feel small,
By giving you no time instead of it all,
Till the pain is so big you feel nothing at all...
They hurt you at home and they hit you at school,
They hate you if you're clever and they despise a fool,
Till you're so fucking crazy you can't follow their rules.
When they've tortured and scared you for twenty odd years,
Then they expect you to pick a career,
When you can't really function you're so full of fear...
Keep you doped with religion and sex and TV,
And you think you're so clever and classless and free,
But you're still fucking peasents as far as I can see.
There's room at the top they are telling you still,
But first you must learn how to smile as you kill,
If you want to be like the folks on the hill...
A working class hero is something to be.
A working class hero is something to be.
If you want to be a hero well just follow me.

Sol de Dezembro

2006-12-14T04:52:00.000-08:00

Leaves are falling all around, It's time I was on my way.
Thanks to you, I'm much obliged for such a pleasant stay.
But now it's time for me to go. The autumn moon lights my way.
For now I smell the rain, and with it pain, and it's headed my way.
Sometimes I grow so tired, but I know I've got one thing I got to do... Ramble On, And now's the time, the time is now, to sing my song.
I'm goin' 'round the world, I got to find my girl, on my way.
I've been this way ten years to the day, Ramble On,
Gotta find the queen of all my dreams.
Got no time to for spreadin' roots, The time has come to be gone.
And to' our health we drank a thousand times, it's time to Ramble On.
Mine's a tale that can't be told, my freedom I hold dear.
How years ago in days of old, when magic filled the air.
T'was in the darkest depths of Mordor, I met a girl so fair.
But Gollum, and the evil one crept up and slipped away with her,
Gonna ramble on, sing my song. Gotta keep-a-searchin' for my baby...
Gonna work my way, round the world. I can't stop this feelin' in my heart
Gotta keep searchin' for my baby. I can't find my bluebird!

Descidas de temperatura

2006-12-05T10:18:00.000-08:00

What is that you said on the phone,
about me dying all alone?
How could that be,
if you are the one who's lonely?
All men have secrets and here is mine
So let it be known.
For we have been through hell and high tide
I think I can rely on you ...
And yet you start to recoil
Heavy words are so lightly thrown
But still I'd leap in front of a flying bullet for you
So, what difference does it make ?
It makes none
But now you have gone
And you must be looking awfully old tonight .
Oh, the devil will find work for idle hands to do
I stole, and then I lied
Just because you asked me to
But now you know the truth about me
You won't see me anymore
Well, I'm still fond of you,
So, what difference does it make ?

Primeiras chuvas

2006-11-14T09:52:00.000-08:00

You fell down of course
and then you got up of course
and you started over
forgot my name of course
then you started to remember
pretty tough to think about
the beginning of december
pretty tough to think about

You're looking down again
and then you look me over
we're laying down again
on a blanket in the clover
the same boy you've always known
well I guess I haven't grown

Think of what the past did
it could 've lasted
so put it in your basket
I hope you know a strong man
who can lend you a hand
lowering my casket

I thought this is just today
and soon you'd been returning
the coldest blue ocean water
cannot stop my heart and mind
from burning
everyone who's in the know says
that's exactly how it goes
and if there's anything good about me
I'm the only one who knows

Sol de Outono

2006-10-09T10:10:00.000-07:00

I want somebody to share
Share the rest of my life
Share my innermost thoughts
Know my intimate details
Someone wholl stand by my side
And give me support
And in return
Shell get my support
She will listen to me
When I want to speak
About the world we live in
And life in general
Though my views may be wrong
They may even be perverted
Shell hear me out
And wont easily be converted
To my way of thinking
In fact shell often disagree
But at the end of it all
She will understand me
Aaaahhhhh....
I want somebody who cares
For me passionately
With every thought and
With every breath
Someone wholl help me see things
In a different light
All the things I detest
I will almost like
I dont want to be tied
To anyones strings
Im carefully trying to steer clear of
Those things
But when Im asleep
I want somebody
Who will put their arms around me
And kiss me tenderly
Though things like this Make me sick
In a case like this
Ill get away with it

Aguaceiros

2006-09-21T11:28:00.000-07:00

Tempo quente e céu nublado

2006-06-06T12:01:00.000-07:00

Please allow me to introduce myself
Im a man of wealth and taste
I've been around for a long, long year
Stole many a mans soul and faith
And I was round when jesus christ
Had his moment of doubt and pain
Made damn sure that pilate
Washed his hands and sealed his fate
Pleased to meet you
Hope you guess my name
But whats puzzling you
Is the nature of my game
I stuck around st. petersburg
When I saw it was a time for a change
Killed the czar and his ministers
Anastasia screamed in vain
I rode a tank
Held a generals rank
When the blitzkrieg raged
And the bodies stank
While your kings and queens
Fought for ten decades
For the gods they made
I shouted out,
Who killed the kennedys?
When after all
It was you and me
Let me please introduce myself
Im a man of wealth and taste
And I laid traps for troubadours
Who get killed before they reached bombay
Pleased to meet you
Hope you guessed my name,
Is just the nature of my game
Just as every cop is a criminal
And all the sinners saints
As heads is tails
Just call me lucifer
cause Im in need of some restraint
So if you meet me
Have some courtesy
Have some sympathy, and some taste
Use all your well-learned politesse
Or Ill lay your soul to waste.

Céu limpo, tempo seco

2006-03-28T10:49:00.000-08:00

This is the end
Beautiful friend
This is the end
My only friend, the end
Of our elaborate plans, the end
Of everything that stands, the end
No safety or surprise, the end
I'll never look into your eyes...again
Can you picture what will be
So limitless and free
Desperately in need...of some...stranger's hand
In a...desperate land
Lost in a Roman...wilderness of pain
And all the children are insane
All the children are insane
Waiting for the summer rain
The killer awoke before dawn, he put his boots on
He took a face from the ancient gallery
And he walked on down the hall
He went into the room where his sister lived, and...then he
Paid a visit to his brother, and then he
He walked on down the hall, and
And he came to a door...and he looked inside
Father, "yes son", I want to kill you
Mother...I want to...fuck you
This is the end
Beautiful friend
This is the end
My only friend, the end
It hurts to set you free
But you'll never follow me
The end of laughter and soft lies
The end of nights we tried to die
This is the end

The Doors, Jim Morrison

Granizo em Bratislava

2006-02-06T11:57:00.000-08:00

A culpa não é do Sol,
se o meu corpo se queimar.
A culpa é da vontade
que eu tenho de te abraçar.

A culpa não é da praia,
se o meu corpo se ferir.
A culpa é da vontade
que tenho de te sentir.

A culpa é da vontade
que vive de dentro de mim
e só morre com a idade,
com a idade do meu fim.

A culpa não é do mar,
se o meu olhar se perder.
A culpa é da vontade
que eu tenho de te ver.

A culpa não é do vento,
se a minha voz se calar.
A culpa é do lamento
que sufoca o meu cantar.

A culpa é da vontade
que vive de dentro de mim
e só morre com a idade,
com a idade do meu fim.

(um poema do barbeiro do bairro)

A praia no inverno

2006-01-29T12:46:00.000-08:00

O Sul de manha

2006-01-29T12:43:00.000-08:00

Nascente em Odivelas

2006-01-29T12:37:00.000-08:00

Neve em lisboa

2006-01-29T12:27:00.000-08:00

2005-02-26T12:48:00.000-08:00

Uma Imagem da familia que ainda hoje guardo, consta na tradição familiar que e do virar do sec. passado.