Os Funerais Do Coelho Branco
Dance Of Days
The White Rabbit's Funerals
I try to think of things
That don't make me remember
The nights when
I made plans to
Exchange my eyes
For these scraps of food and
Wet cigarette ashes
Imprinted on the carpet
At parties I attended
And no one saw me
Throwing cake to the fish
Why theorize about being alone
If the opposite of being happy
Is the certainty of knowing that
We don't always have
Answers we want to hear?
So call me! - she said
Actually, she doesn't even remember my name
I'll call... of course. - I replied
I always end up calling
'You know, today maybe
that movie I like so much will be on...'
Yes, I could be kind
And ask trivial things,
But what I really wanted
Was to have a glass of dirty water
To drink and stop pretending
Not knowing if the emptiness is even greater
Now that we know we did
The best for both of us
And left everything for later.
You know,
Sometimes, I really think that saying
'let it go' is less tiring
and you?
