Verano En Coma
Da Pawn
Summer In Coma
A summer in a coma
In the wide Portuguese row
I converse with the melody already left behind
Lost children in the certainty of these times
Few sweet hours
Strong winds pull our detached
Detached
Paths on the wooden bench delineating
Voices creak in the clouds, little childhood without ardor
Orange earth paintings on my vibrating window
The plastic walls in this plane
My step on the turbulent platform
Does not cause laughter or attention
Children drowned in the backwater
A summer in a painless coma
My step on the turbulent platform
Does not cause laughter or attention
Children drowned in the backwater
A summer in a painless coma
My step on the turbulent platform
Does not cause laughter or attention
Children drowned in the backwater
A summer in a painless coma
Does not cause laughter or attention
A summer in a painless coma
