a violent yet flammable world

"A felicidade, em pessoas inteligentes, é das coisas mais raras que conheço."

Oceans shape the sides.Touching down in the spaces.Soaking from a warm goodbye.An early rise offers kindly.Tonight I sleep to dream.Of a place that's calling meIt is always just a dream.Still I cannot forget what I have seen.The crowd's hard to believe.At their faces I'm looking.But your feet I'm following.In soft steps on a path the way you lead.I don't want to lose myselfIt's a whisper.It's a funny thing.We fold like icicles on paper shelves.It's a pity to appear this way.You're flying when your foreign eyes.Trace the heights of the city.Steaming.With rocks and clouds we breathe.Violent skies.A shock to my own body.Speech is wild.Alive sacred and sounding.Wild from across and beyond, oh far beyond.I don't want to lose myself.It's a whisper.It's a funny thing.We fold like icicles on paper shelves.It's a pity to appear this way.Hold, hold, hold on.I swearI saw it somewhere.Waving, wading, one, two, three, above the wakes that follow.Hold, hold, hold on I swear I saw it somewhere.Waving, wading, one, two, three, above the wakes that follow.I don't want to lose myself.Tonight I sleep to dream of a place that's calling me.It's a whisper It is always just a dream. It's a funny thing.Still I cannot forget what I have seen.We fold like icicles on paper shelves.With rocks and clouds we breathe, a shock to my own body.It's a pity. Alive sacred and sounding. To appear this way from across and beyond, oh far beyond.