Thames*

By the river,

walking on the bridge:

hidden was a snake

waiting to surprise

- hands touching!
things happening

all so suddenly,

but no need to worry

nobody’s bitten anyway.

No more chance, word or sight

ever in this journey, honey

- so pleasantly distracted

just waving on the blues

in a single afternoon…

Then just a coffee and goodbye,

a bit chilly for a sun break

- oh, such inconstant weather!

warm and beautiful though

for Eros was playing at the square.

Young and Wise*

(Lyric)

Remember when we were young and wise

The bedroom windows opened

For the quiet neighborhood outside

At night the moon shining

And our thoughts flying so high

There were so many of us

So many glasses, faces and talks

In the afternoons

The warm or slow ones

Meaning everything

Wasn’t it supposed to last

We only had to learn

Remember when we were young and wise

The bedroom windows opened

For the quiet neighborhood outside

At night the moon shining

And our thoughts flying so high

Flowers, ocean, places

The experience of being together

Or lying in the bed alone

All blue beautiful sadness

Yellow smiling greens

Crying for the hidden love

Of bodies partying in a kiss

Now I’m old and I don’t know

It might have been the wine

All the things we used to know

If they just don’t apply anymore

There’s no time and no past

Some theories were put aside

Now those days were left behind

Remember when we were young and wise

The bedroom windows opened

For the quiet neighborhood outside

At night the moon shining

And our thoughts flying so high

Praia dos Sonhos*

Nos conhecemos

e juntos

deixamos de ir à escola.

Por coincidência

estávamos prontos

tínhamos a roupa certa

conversamos

tomamos banho de sol

e assistimos corpos dourados

deslizando sobre as ondas.

Mas desta praia

apenas a areia existiu

foi tudo o que na verdade vi.

A vigília do dia seguinte

me aguardava de olhos arregalados

prontos para punir.

Como se isso importasse

a Saturno

pois não há estrondo

nem milhões de anos lentos

a separar continentes

que o faça não pensar:

“whatever”.

O Cabide e as Ruas*

Por entre a porta do quarto

vejo as roupas penduradas no cabide

- vou pendurando palavras.

A uma ruma de ruas dali

o passarinho se banha na areia.

Meus olhos seguem pela avenida

desço debaixo do sol, alguns passos à frente

aceno para um hoje desconhecido

- desculpe, não posso parar.

E agora me ocorre

que neste ritmo está o sentido.

Real Life*

(Lyric)

Everyday

I’ve gotta convince myself

I’m gonna make it

That I’m gonna watch the clock

And not be afraid of it.

Everyday

Before I sleep

I’ve gotta believe

I’m not gonna get killed

By some hideous creature

In my dream.

I’ve gotta know this life is real.

Everyday

When I wake up

I see the perfect order of things

About to collapse.

I’ve gotta try to remember this life is real.

.