|
Cellar of Words Hopelessness makes me thirsty, A twitched body dances the end theme, And Winter’s tears make me blind, They just push me through the doors of time. In this cellar of words I find the alcohol, The liquid sentiment that drowns my soul And little boats carrying ginger and girls Just pass me by, Leaving strange melodies for me to find. The light of days has faded, now, All I see is a river and wood and wine In the shape of sentences I’ve never said, That make me feel closer to the divine «Comedy!», some may say, sciencemen probably, But in this cellar of words I find the essence They cannot create with laboratory rats, In this cellar of words, I drink the message And drunken myself on it. Love is the one That makes me drown my tongue Love is the one That could make me strong Or a dead man. Damon Durham (22nd November 2002) Damon at 11:33 da manhã
|
outras praias
where words come together as waves, blue and beautiful, dying in the whiteness, but repeating themselves like music notes, from sunrise to sunset to sunrise again. um livro: «Saudades de Nova Iorque», de Pedro Paixão. um filme: «Memento». um disco: «King of limbs», Radiohead. |