Wicked Game

World was on fire, no one could save me but you
It's strange what desire will make foolish people do
I never dreamed that I'd need somebody like you
And I never dreamed that I'd need somebody like you

No, I wanna fall in love
(This world is only gonna break your heart)
No, I wanna fall in love
(This world is only gonna break your heart)
...with you

(This world is only gonna break your heart)

What a wicked game to play,
To make me feel this way.
What a wicked thing to do,
To let me dream of you.
What a wicked thing to say,
You never felt this way.
What a wicked thing to do,
To make me dream of you.

No, I wanna fall in love
(This world is only gonna break your heart)
No, I wanna fall in love
(This world is only gonna break your heart)
...with you

World was on fire, no one could save me but you
It's strange what desire will make foolish people do
No, and I never dreamed that I'd love somebody like you
And I'll never dream that I lose somebody like you, no

No, I wanna fall in love
(This world is only gonna break your heart)
No, I wanna fall in love
(This world is only gonna break your heart)
...with you

(This world is only gonna break your heart)
...

Nobody loves no one

by H.I.M.
e é a primeira vez que posto uma lyric inteira deles.lol

Título do blog II - Paciênca

Que se f*da! Vou voltar ao mesmo título. Este não me dá aquele sentimento de bem estar (wtf?)!

Titulo do blog.

Mudei o titulo, como se pode ver. A razão está no post "If only everyone would change".
Estava indecisa entre "Washing the world away" e "Our sick story (Thus far)", depois de ter eliminado uma lista inteira, ora está.
"Washing the world away" parece me estranho... se calhar ainda não me habituei simplesmente. Agora vou-lhe dar uns dias, a ver no que dá. Se encontrar um melhor, mudo.

Coisa do momento.

Apetece-me escrever!
Escrevo.
Não sei o que escrever...
Que coisa!
Que raiva!
Sinto tanta coisa,
Não penso nada.
Desisto.
Não escrevo.

If only everyone would change...

Faz sentido? Porque haveria de querer que os outros mudassem? Para sermos todos iguais? Para serem o que é "correcto" a meu ver? Onde estaria a diversão de viver e conhecer pessoas, então? Perderíamos aquele brilho nos olhos, aquela alegria, quando conhecemos alguém com os mesmos gostos que nós - música, filmes, livros, seja o que for! Não haveria assim, um único individuo à face da terra interessante. O interessante é o diferente ou o raro. E mesmo quando não é raro, ao menos não é cópia!

E isto tudo para dizer que vou mudar o nome ao blog. LOL

Untitled. Álvaro de Campos.

Quero acabar entre rosas, porque as amei na infância.
Os crisantemos de depois, desfolhei-os a frio.
Falem pouco, devagar.
Que eu não oiça, sobretudo com o pensamento.
O que quis? Tenho as mãos vazias,
Crispadas flébilmente sobre a colcha longínqua.
O que pensei? Tenho a boca seca, abstracta.
O que vivi? Era tão bom dormir!

Prostitute

Seems like forever and a day.

If my intentions are misunderstood,
Please be kind
I've done all I should.
I won't ask of you
What I would not do.
Oh, I saw the damage in you
My fortunate one
The envy of youth.

Why would they
Tell me to please those
That laugh in my face?
When all of the reasons
They've taught us
Fall over themselves
To give way

It's not a question of
Whether my heart is true
Streamlined
I had to pull thought
Look for a new
Beginning on you
Oh I got a message for you
Up and away
It's what I gotta do
Forgive what you have
For what you might lose.

What would you say
If I told you that I'm to blame?
And what would you do
If I had to deny your name?
Where would you go if I told you
I love you and then walked away?
And who should I turn to
If not for the ones
That you could not save

I told you when I found you
If there were doubts you
Should be careful and unafraid
Now they surround you
And all that amounts to
Is love that you fed by
Perversion and fame

So if my affections
Are misunderstood
And you decide
I'm up
To no good
Don't ask me to
Enjoy them
Just for you

Ask yourself
What I would choose
To prostitute myself
To live with fortune and shame
Oh yeah
When you should
Have turned to the hearts
Of the ones
That you would not save

I told you
When I found you
All that amounts to
Is love that you fed by
Perversion and fame

by Guns N' Roses