Palavras mudas,
Terra infértil lavram...
Em alma ansiosa,
Os amores se matam...
Será amor o que virá?
Desta intempérie ansiada...
Ou uma onda gigante de lá?
Que me deixará morto na enseada...
Subscrever:
Enviar feedback (Atom)
-
I feel the ropes of the ship tightening as the wind picks up... The boards crank and moan as if they had something to say, As the silence ar...
-
Well I can see you're giving up... Laying the towel on the floor, And packing your bags close to the door... As the bed is scarce of spa...
-
So time keeps clumping on into lumps of people Getting divided by different phases in your life... By all the awkward desires one has on sol...
Sem comentários:
Enviar um comentário