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| LX 30ABR14 |
isto não é uma revista
Toda a gente tem três vidas: uma vida pública, uma vida privada e uma vida secreta
- Gabriel García Márquez, na capa da Vanity Fair de Maio
Beam in to the future
From the palm of your hand
Why in the world would you want to do that?
Ride out to the station
Stare out into space
Why in the world would I want to do that?
So I was a young and modern guy, wasn't I?
So when did I cease to see the light?
Maybe you were right
Maybe I’m all dried up inside
Maybe I’m not built for these times
Maybe I don’t know how to live
You've got a working illusion
In the palm of your hand
Why in the world would you want to lose that?
I clung on to believing
Just as long as I could
How in the world could you fail to see that?
Hasta luego modern guy
When did I cease to see the light?
And maybe you were right
Maybe I’m all dried up inside
Maybe I’m not built for these times
Maybe I don’t know how to live
Maybe I don’t know how to live
They sat together in the park
As the evening sky grew dark
She looked at him and he felt a spark tingle to his bones
’Twas then he felt alone and wished that he’d gone straight
And watched out for a simple twist of fate
They walked along by the old canal
A little confused, I remember well
And stopped into a strange hotel with a neon burnin’ bright
He felt the heat of the night hit him like a freight train
Moving with a simple twist of fate
A saxophone someplace far off played
As she was walkin’ by the arcade
As the light bust through a beat-up shade where he was
wakin’ up,
She dropped a coin into the cup of a blind man at the gate
And forgot about a simple twist of fate
He woke up, the room was bare
He didn’t see her anywhere
He told himself he didn’t care, pushed the window open wide
Felt an emptiness inside to which he just could not relate
Brought on by a simple twist of fate
He hears the ticking of the clocks
And walks along with a parrot that talks
Hunts her down by the waterfront docks where the sailors all
come in
Maybe she’ll pick him out again, how long must he wait
Once more for a simple twist of fate
People tell me it’s a sin
To know and feel too much within
I still believe she was my twin, but I lost the ring
She was born in spring, but I was born too late
Blame it on a simple twist of fate
Blame it on a simple twist of fate
[Letter from Laurence Olivier to Vivien Leigh, in 1939]
I do not think there is a solitary second when my mind is not completely buried in you. You are really on my brain – I suppose if you happened to represent something dangerous I should be locked up – but no it’s not quite like that. I am not always thinking sweetly of you. I am thinking angrily or indignantly or sulkily, quite often, but I am never not thinking of you. More often than not I am just worried about you, concerned and distressed about my baby lamb being tired or unhappy – and of course often it is with mad, mad passion and sometimes it is naughty, sometimes, only sometimes is it dirty or even sadistic…You are all over me, in sorrow or in joy, all of the time – O yes in drunkenness too, in conversation, in work, with every breath and heart-beat.https://www.facebook.com/vivandlarry
conte ao menos até três, se precisar conte outra vez
tom zé / erasmo carlos / roberto carlos / gal costa é muito maravilhosa
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