partidas y arribos

you say goodbye and then the engine start and you feel a rush, a connection with each little cog that runs this clock, the mechanical spirituality so 21st-centuriesque that children are born with wi-fi included, above the mountains it feels so weird so unnatural as if I'm missing all the little landscapes and faces and peestops and nights-at-little-inns that would compose a REAL trip, still the lights down there tend to have a high æsthetical value, in which I mean they are pretty, and then the migration papers come, and in this land of unfairness, it's always about the taxes... and "it ain't nothing sure in this life, except death and taxes" and I'm sure they won't collect taxes from dead people so it should be "death or taxes" and then you fill the papers in, declaring all the little trinkets and useless waste you bought, cause you had to you need to so you can show and shove all your power in-to the neighbors like a aroused male peacock would as if your smartassphone would save you in case of a plane crashing into the rocks and woods almost as if they were claiming their dead brothers stolen by us when justice is made and in case of a crash panic would be spreading like flu but there would be one smiling at last free from our stock-market-samsara and the customs control and taxes and prohibition. 'cause death is freedom, life is illusion. but the plane comes down, the way it should be. and life goes on, the way it can be. at least I can see the ones I miss, the ones that put sense into all of this.

sunlight

sunlight hits
what does it means to be alive
in our endless, unholy hives
that plague the sacred grounds
endless halls of constant crawl

step out
out of this whole hole of dirt
purge the darkness and the war
from our open-wounded hearts
and feel the freedom newfound

so you die
but the earth is still around
it will tear itself apart
grow its child in the wilds
honor the old into stone

you will become
the ground you walk
and then, mountains
everything is alive
until the sunlight
hits us all

Despedida - Troca trilhos

A Deus dedicadas incertezas
A Deus lúgubres lamentos
A Deus jogadas as mãos
A Deus sopradas sombras no caminho
A Deus a culpa de meus destemperos
A Deus orações por liberdade

Em curvas de vento, vôo, vou
Migrar ao norte para o meu verão
Me ensinam as músicas do cantar dos patos
Notas rosa ou verde
Ou amarelas ou verde de novo
Saudades vêm, vão, virão
Vãos

Troco trilhos
Essa grande estrada d'água
Enche meus olhos
Enche minha alma

Sobre meus ombros, o céu, apenas
E o nariz aponta o caminho
Do homem
A fé em esgueiradas ruínas caídas à Terra
Aos amigos agradeço
A fé
A Deus

generic low rock interface

just another man lost in its own sins
high on the perspective of a greater dream
looking for anything he can find
on anygirl's eyes

the names roll by...

little girl made of stone
when she talks
I hear the moan
of the saxophone
endure, girl, endure
and you'll grow strong

there's this girl made of clouds
thunders the softer sound
as the screams and shouts
fill up the empty spaces

one made of fire
the sheets made smoke
on a heavy load of dope
you could think she was some

water made poison
the first one you'll not let
shed tears of loss
rendered me helpless
on the floor

the one I never met
I won't soon forget

things just happen
it's a fact, a trap
for those who are not dead
love turns to sand
as the band hits the next
stop

vernissage of souls

dig all your thoughts and find a way to be lost
see the faces painted on the wall and then you fall
drift further into the mistakes of your past
walk through the dead, low head, pay respect

wounds that'll never close, but do you care?
just another story to tell on a bar brag
so many possible worlds where you're the best
but at last, you became just a hateful bastard

under the sheets and the warmth from her skin
there are no mistakes to be made by a seasoned man
but when the screaming and shouting ceases
will the ghosts under the bed haunt and dread?

and then, the silence reigns
another shadow is made
a new face for the scenes
to haunt your dreams of peace
within

another prayer to the light son

father once told
"go, and then grow
apart, but still one"
restless stones roll
and I keep memories
of those fond old times
and hopes
for times that are
yet to come

old brother
where art thou?
in our path to doom
thy feet follow
their inevitable road
the wall crumbles
and the way is shown
the dark night's gone
and thou shalt shine
as thou wast meant to

don't look back
but if thou doest
thou shalt not be lost
I will be here
somewhere to flee
to hear thy plea

amen

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