Comme ta vie est triste Dans un jour nouveau Tu seras l'artiste Dans l'eau de tes pleurs Qui s'ecoulent pour elle Invente une fleur Peins-la d'aquarelle
There are watercolour ponies on my refrigerator door And the shape of something, I don't really recognize Brushed with careful little fingers and put
When I'm falling down Will you pick me up again? When I'm too far gone Dead in the eyes of my friends Will you take me out of here? When I'm staring
I REMEMBER PHOTOGRAPHS WATERCOLORS OF THE PAST HE TURNED AND SAID, YOU ASK MUCH OF ME THEN, WHEN WE'D MADE OUR PEACE WE LAY BETWEEN THE SHEETS HE TURNED
Your hands and my words trace circles, Lines, volutes, assonances, Fragrances of sonorous abstractions Atmospheric nuances, Tenuous impalpable motions
Oh, essas fontes murmurantes Onde eu mato a minha sede E onde a lua vem brincar Oh, esse Brasil lindo igueiro E o meu Brasil brasileiro Terra de samba
Going through the motions Ending up nowhere at all Can't see the sun on my wall Going through emotions Ending up on a frozen morning With a heart not
Brazil, when stars were entertaining June, We stood beneath an amber moon And softly murmured someday soon... We kissed and clung together Then -
Instrumental
Trapped inside a world under leagues of ocean The clergy arrives with the magic potion I put my mouth into the cup of potion Sip down the nectar and
Wayne Watson There are watercolour ponies On my refrigerator door And the shape of something I don't really recognize Brushed with careful little fingers
sun in every direction; we are cloaked in veils of mystic protection... joking a lot, smoking or not, floating our yacht off to freedom, voting to be Aquarian
siento el palpitar de los tambores como si supieran mi destino es la luna que arde es el presagio de la sangre en mi camino y asi te encontre junto a
Brasil Meu Brasil brasileiro Meu mulato inzoneiro Vou cantar-te nos meus versos O Brasil, samba que da Bamboleio, que faz gingar O Brasil do meu amor
listening to strawberry wine for the 131st time it was 1987 and it was spring it's 1987 all the time now it's 1987 all the time well we were there too
