As I am walking in the street, I freeze.
The sun brings me the future...
The present makes me a mad creature,
And the past is my disease!

Bestas

Muitos homens sonham fazer,
Olham para os seus sonhos...
Não entendem que olham,
Quietos, olham para eles mesmos!

A Friday`s Misery

The moon seems quite sad,
She lives in that freezing darkness...
But I would be glad
Entering that world of happiness!

My soul is in a bottle of gold.
Like in poker, now I can quit,
Bet , raise or just fold...
Now I´ll raise a bit.

I have the lips of poverty,
And I have become a poor of soul
Living forever in some miserable thoughts.

I dream : My soul is in a bottle of gold,
Which is being continuously broken!
I am blind but I must love some Midas.