Plagiando descaradamente uma idéia de Dupézio, o Anatômico

COISAS QUE ME ASSUSTAM NA CALADA DA NOITE PRETA


Amy Winehouse procurando o lugar mais provável que sua sífilis possa ter-se escondido

::E ainda pagou peichinho, hein.::

Ooh! get me away from here Im dying
Play me a song to set me free
Nobody writes them like they used to
So it may as well be me
Here on my own now after hours
Here on my own now on a bus
Think of it this way
You could either be successful or be us
With our winning smiles, and us
With our catchy tunes and words
Now were photogenic
You know, we dont stand a chance

Oh, Ill settle down with some old story
About a boy whos just like me
Thought there was love in everything and everyone
Youre so naive!
They always reach a sorry ending
They always get it in the end
Still it was worth it as I turned the pages solemnly, and then
With a winning smile, the poor boy
With naivety succeeds
At the final moment, I cried
I always cry at endings

Oh, that wasnt what I meant to say at all
From where Im sitting, rain
Falling against the lonely tenement
Has set my mind to wander
Into the windows of my lovers
They never know unless I write
This is no declaration, I just thought Id let you know goodbye
Said the hero in the story
It is mightier than swords
I could kill you sure
But I could only make you cry with these words