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Monday, May 28, 2007

 
Estamos fechando para balanço. Voltamos qualquer dia desses.

oh, my heart can't carry much more
it's really really aching and sore
my heart don't care anymore
I really can't bear more

my hands don't work like before
I shiver and I scrape at your door
my heart can't carry much more
but you couldn't care less, could you?

your face don't look like before
it's really not like yours anymore
your eyes don't like me no more
they quiver and they shift to the floor

my heart don't beat like before
it's never been this slow
no, my blood don't flow anymore
and you couldn't care less, could you?

could we stop and sleep for a spell
we can turn this ditch into a well
and send that old devil back to hell
but we really don't care, do we?

baby, let's stop and sleep for a spell
we can turn this ditch into a well
and send that old devil back to hell

your back's not straight like before
you really shouldn't carry me no more
I'm much too heavy for you
I'm really quite a mess, yes

we just don't care anymore
we're crooked and we're cut to the core
we're just not there anymore
but we really don't care, do we?

no, we couldn't care less
we couldn't care less, could we?
 

Greta Garbo, quem diria, foi parar no Irajá as 10:15 AM