'Bora fazer como o Pacheco e publicar aqui coisas que gostamos. Em vez de poemas, publicamos letras de músicas e mudamos o nome, para não parecer mal, para late night blogs. Começo com um [quase] clássico:
Racing Like A Pro
The National
You’re pink you’re young you’re middle-class
they say it doesn’t matter
Fifteen blue shirts and womanly hands
you’re shooting up the ladder
Your mind is racing like a pro, now
Oh my god it doesn’t mean a lot to you
One time you were a glowing young ruffian
Oh my god it was a million years ago
Sometimes you get up and bake a cake or something
sometimes you stay in bed
sometimes you go la di da di da di da da
til your eyes roll back into your head
Your mind is racing like a pro, now
Oh my god it doesn’t mean a lot to you
One time you were a glowing young ruffian
Oh my god it was a million years ago
You’re dumbstruck baby
You’re dumbstruck baby now you know
You’re dumbstruck baby
You’re dumbstruck baby now you know
Your mind is racing like a pro, now
Oh my god it doesn’t mean a lot to you
One time you were a glowing young ruffian
Oh my god it was a million years ago
You’re dumbstruck baby
You’re dumbstruck baby now you know
You’re dumbstruck baby
You’re dumbstruck baby now you know
You’re dumbstruck baby
[EDIT] Já há muito que se publicam por aqui coisas das quais se gosta...
2 comentários:
Assim é que se fala e posta.
Isto é uma página em branco, cabe cá tudo, quem dera podermos também desenhar.
(Tinha-me esquecido de concordar que) os The National são, pá, enfim, uma daquelas coisas que, porra, nem sei...
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