Quando o Dia Aquece Sementes Mortas (a Amarga História do Rei do Nada)
Dance Of Days
When the Day Warms Dead Seeds (the Bitter Story of the King of Nothing)
In the sad story of miseries
of a life I was the King,
thrown to the moths in his own castle.
Chained chasing
fireflies and words
with two sharp ends ready to cut.
The threads that move these legs
and make the King dance,
waiting for the gallows
to open! To open!
To conquer the existence
Of your attention when in the air
kicking these bones.
And you! Applaud!
Who loves me abandoned me,
who protects me let in
the disease into my room
and who wishes me well made note
of the indifference in front of my body
sliding into endless fall...
I wish I could disappear
before questioning.
You consent to the alms in silence... You consent to the alms...
You consent to the alms...
Silent... You consent to the alms in silence...
You consent to the alms...
You consent to the alms...
Silent...
Who will spit out insects?
Who will spit out insects?
Who will spit out insects?
My brother yes, not me..!
To me the word does not comfort,
it comes from the tongue of the serpent
and envy, source of ruin.
To me the good forgets
and only the bad comes to sit at the table
and grind the teeth
to steal all the food.
To me it was a mistake not to think that
forgetting would be the end.
and that my mistakes would come to
Take! From me!
What I had and deliver me
to those who spit on the earth
where my love planted
Its! root!
Who loves me abandoned me,
who protects me let in
the disease into my room
and who wishes me well made note
of the indifference in front of my body
sliding into endless fall...
I wish I could disappear
before reaching.
The other side of the road,
and realize that I,
If I was King, I was King of the wounds
that I displayed
With the trophy on the head
decapitated to the plebeians,
raised to the world on the stake
to be able to see!
That the King of Nothing,
never even had a name,
to engrave in stone,
and cover with flowers.
