Meek, cold stars
Twinkle helplessly in the sky.
As swelling clouds mourn
And slowly pass me by.
All is silent,
Not a soul awake.
My room is lit by the lonely moon -
Perfect and pale
As a wedding cake.
My eyes are closed.
But I'm not asleep.
For a lively night owl
Lives inside my feet.
scratchy swallows
after swallows swoop
concrete crumbles.
swolen ashes
No pulse less calm
When throught is cleared
And clock is geared for
Rasping pens,
As spoken words, or
Echoes cold
And blue neon-nerves.
Fluorescent white washed light
Superficial as ice,
Pale on the skin.
And like slaves,
We read, write, concentrate
As the little brain-strained
Spores persperate.
Blotted, clotted fountain pens
Leak like hiccups or streams.
And pause.
And remember.
Just to forget.
Like catching butterry butterflies with oily wings.
As ideas and facts,
Slip and slack,
Through wiery sivs and funnels black.
No pulse less calm
As clock ticks on
As hours are seconds
And time is none.
the ex-non-stop
If only air seperates us
If it is only a gust that holds us apart
Why is it so hard to move closer
Without having to swallow down my heart?
And if your eyes are only eyes;
If they are only windows to your soul,
Then how can I contain myself
If not even your eyes I can control?
And talking of control,
I wish I had some over your wreckless heart.
I wish I could have kept it
Before that bitch had it stole,
And tore us so painfully apart.
So, if you're just a person,
Just an insignificant other,
Why is it that when I think of you,
My soul is a void that
No one will ever be able to cover.
In the end, I just hope you'll realise
How easily you can find another lover
While it is so hard for me
To live
To love
To forget
and try not to suffer.
thanx alot.
I swore not to scribble another song;
No more love lyrics,
No heart ache gymics,
No sweaty, wet, thong lick-its.
But what about my suppressed anger and shit?
I'll shut up till i'm blue in the face.
Blue all over and inside
Till I change from the hip hop scene
To the fucking blues disgrace.
But what about players?
Players - silence please.
You'll slaughter if you speak
'Cos you're cheezier than cheese.
So in silence, you play with me.
Bargain a game of trust
Extrapolated to be nothing but lust,
Play a game of fun and disgust,
Fun like the heat, blazing
On your heart burns and bursts,
Blended and pierced
By the cruel fucking dearest.
Destined to be doomed for the worst.
Like the pulsating art of Dalí or
Seas of red eyes of dust.
First warning comes once.
A musica comercializada
Technicamente embalada
Pelo som musical
Que chega tarde a Portugal
-Quem nos dera que não chegasse
Nem nascesse no berço
Americanizado do mal.
Atinge quem atinge
Hypnotize quem
alucineFaca a outros o que fazem a ti.
Mas não vibrem o som gamado
Nem se passem pelos sacrificados
Que andam aos espantalhos
Num duel de sabedoria
Contra os zombies da hypocrisia.
Atirem-lhes com algo puramente puro
Algo lirical,
Vindo directamente de Portugal.
Identifique os fakes capturados
Pelo dinheiro frescamente excitado
Na economia da voz
Na gastronomia que ocorre
Plenamente fascinado
Como um dedo bem gelado
Que não foge.
Consumidos pelo consumo
Esganados pelo seu próprio fumo
Um por todos e todos por nenhum.
Não usem a sua imaginação
Se irá sempre parar ás
Mãos da comercialização
Mas talvez eu não tenha razão,
Alias, nunca atendi uma
Aula, nem lição de hip hop
Fui como um furação
O meu proprio sêr vivo sem informação
Escrevendo pelas baladas contra
As consuladas da maldição.
Sou um fake, como me chamam,
Já não rimo por fé, em vão...