terça-feira, 25 de junho de 2013

Out of Sight

I see the colors,
The purple colored trees,
Sea creatures flying;
We're out of sight.

The blue background,
The red flames in the air,
Stars tremble as I walk,
My thoughts became strange,
And time is running;
We're still out of sight.

Who's there to talk?
Where are the weird people?
We need a place to be ourselves,
We want the whole sea,
We crave for the sky;
We're going home.

The imaginary bus has arrived,
No one will be missed,
We created our own legend,
Given to the world as a token of appreciation.

We need to go,
We'll always have to go:
To the place without rules,
Near the killer with sentiment,
We have to be gone,
Out of sight.

Ricardo Rodrigues

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