Vou cantar esta cena
Que me deixa ileso...
Há alguém que entenda
Este português teso?
Teso de liberdade,
Eu quero falar...
Mas não há igualdade,
Falo, e é tudo a cortar.
Teso de emoção,
Automatização de assunto....
De batuta na mão
A prof. dá-nos no presunto.
Teso de integridade,
Ninguém julga certo...
Ai! Que saudade
Quando não havia encoberto.
Não há nada a fazer,
Não há nada a dizer...
Continuo sem saber
Como viver neste deserto.
Too tired to write,
Too tired to speak…
What can I do to invert this scene?
What is wrong with me?
Do we need something to say?
I say what I feel… Don’t feel don’t say…
But I urge to speak
So I don’t cry…
I always seek to stand for my pride.
Ain’t proud on what
I write or say…
Ain’t proud of me
Or my stupid way…
Still I’m arrogant,
Need to impose myself
With nothing to show,
With nothing to hold…
Don’t know
I must be unreal
To think I’m something…
Well…
I know I’m nothing
But forget to survive
Painless, with pride…
So… I need to speak,
I need to say
I’m a bad mother…
And not the freak I know I am…
As I write, with nothing to say,
This pain grows inside,
I feel something trying to get away.
Even feelings inside are abandoning me,
They are here now… Now they’re free…
This foolish me
Tries to understand,
Why diplomacy
Is so good and bad…
Good for money
Bad for men.
This foolish me,
As my soul cries,
Sees this world free,
Not of war and fights,
Free of preserving life…
Cause this diplomacy
Preserves liders
Who have lives.
(To protect)
This foolish me
Wonders why:
Tanks aim and don’t see
They could hit the guy
Who makes this world free?
Instead they despise
A million precious lives.
Is this diplomacy?
