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Tuesday, October 10, 2006

 
The Night. Ou superando todos os limites do brega.

You're the night, Lilah. A little girl lost in the woods.
You're a folk tale, the unexplainable


É uma imagem bonita: uma menina perdida numa floresta, tão simples e inexplicável quanto uma lenda de folclore.

You're a bedtime story. The one that keeps the curtains closed.
I hope you're waiting for me cause I can make it on my own.
I can make it on my own.


And I hope so, babe. E eu posso esperar. Eu tenho todo o tempo do mundo pra esperar você chegar e me dizer que não dá tá dando conto sozinho. Que mais do que precisar, você quer minha presença, babe. Eu tenho tempo.

It's too dark to see the landmarks. I don't want your good luckcharms.
I hope you're waiting for me across your carpet of stars.
You're the night, Lilah. You're everything that we can't see.
Lilah, you're the possibility.


Talvez, você seja o meu amuleto da sorte. Então segue o tapete de estrelas (ai, breguice) e me acha. Porque aí, Lilah será mais do que possibilidades, sabe?

You're the bedtime story. The one that keeps the curtainsclosed.
And I hope you're waiting for me cause I can make it on my own.
I can make it on my own.


*pausa pra choro besta*

Unknown the unlit world of old. You're the sounds I never heard before.
Off the map where the wild things grow. Another world outside my door.
Here I stand I'm all alone. Drive me down the pitch black road.
Lilah you're my only home and I can't make it on my own.


E é isso. É seguir no escuro sozinho por uma estrada maluca, até se saber em casa. E pedir ajuda se der merda.

You're a bedtime story. The one that keeps the curtains closed.
And I hope you're waiting for me cause I can make it on my own.
I can make it on my own.

You're the paint can falling off the wall at the door that slam sat the end of the hall where the kid rings sounds of basketball.The battle of the earth of the angels. The shifting snow drifts so realistic, so realistic - call you carpet of stars. See there is something in the yard. It's awful dark. With the painted strings, the cross, the good luck charm, the prayer, the extralayer.


E não é pra fazer sentido. You are the night, Lilah, all the possibilities are laying on your carpet of stars.
 

Greta Garbo, quem diria, foi parar no Irajá as 12:41 AM