domingo, 13 de junio de 2010

The Curse Of My Own Words

Saturday, Saturday, Saturday,
you got the Sun on prime,
with a fresh wind,
and she was there, smiling gorgeous,
(when I remember get me chills),
and I still complain Time didn't stopped to back me up.
Five, 10 minutes laughing,
me dropping some words to take couple of smile for the bedtime.
A palm was the wall of a secret,
when the voices started to get lower, and then stopped.

(silence)

Opened eyes back,
again she with that killer smile,
don't be shy, come here...

(silence)

Like her lips, the Breeze ran smooth,
the Palm sang, while was the wall of a secret.


- R.I.P. 2007 -

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