16 abril 2007

Alma


Looking out the door i see the rain fall upon the funeral mourners
Parading in a wake of sad relations as their shoes fill up with water
And maybe i'm too young to keep good love from going wrong
But tonight you're on my mind so you never know

When i'm broken down and hungry for your love with no way to feed it
Where are you tonight, child you know how much i need it
Too young to hold on and too old to just break free and run

Sometimes a man gets carried away, when he feels like he should be having his fun And much too blind to see the damage he's done
Sometimes a man must awake to find that really, he has no-one

So i'll wait for you... and i'll burn
Will I ever see your sweet return
Oh will I ever learn

Oh lover, you should've come over
'Cause it's not too late

Lonely is the room, the bed is made, the open window lets the rain in
Burning in the corner is the only one who dreams he had you with him
My body turns and yearns for a sleep that will never come

It's never over, my kingdom for a kiss upon her shoulder
It's never over, all my riches for her smiles when i slept so soft against her
It's never over, all my blood for the sweetness of her laughter
It's never over, she's the tear that hangs inside my soul forever

Well maybe i'm just too young
To keep good love from going wrong

Oh... lover, you should've come over
'Cause it's not too late

Well I feel too young to hold on
And i'm much too old to break free and run
Too deaf, dumb, and blind to see the damage i've done
Sweet lover, you should've come over
Oh, love well i'm waiting for you

Lover, you should've come over
'Cause it's not too late

Lover, You Should've Come Over, Jeff Buckley

"Meu, isto é alma!" O dvd passava e nós, sentados por ali e por aqui, um bocado de álcool a mais uns, something else outros, ouvíamos. ... e ele inclinava a cabeça para trás, passava a mão nos cabelos, olhava-o no écran e semicerrava os olhos, já pequeninos... "Isto é alma, pá." Exacto, meu, alma em estado puro.

7 comentários:

Anónimo disse...

...Ganda buba!
(if this friend of yours, besides from your grandmother or any other member of your family should die whilst in the shelter,
Put them outside, but remember to tag them first for identification purposes.)
Antonymous

Uxka disse...

You mean the garage...?! Not the shelter, the garage!

Uxka disse...

Ai Maria, chovem private jokes a torto e a direito.
O homem da casa sempre gostou muito daquela tirada do Two Tribes dos Frankie Goes to Hollywood... só que neste caso, não era um shelter, era uma garagem mesmo... e por aqui me fico antes que os esqueletos saltem do armário.
Bjinhos

Anónimo disse...

Finalmente. O Maior.

Depois deste gajo cantar, a música devia tornar-se silenciosa, no mínimo.

Joana disse...

:) Foi dos primeiros comentários que fizeste lá no blog, a propósito do Grace. Lembras-te? Adoro adoro. <3 **

The Perfect Stranger disse...

desculpa visitar-te tão pouco.
a vida nã mo permite
um ganda beijo
anjo

Uxka disse...

Ah Tyler, não diria melhor!
Beijos

Joanie :)... como compreendo esse "adoro".
Jinhos

Anjo, bom ver-te aqui e NÃO pede desculpa.
Ganda beijo nessas asas todas.