sábado, 16 de junho de 2007

What Else Could I Say...

Smells Like Aborted Soul
Living this life I can’t be myself
I only see people selling yourselves
I only see people slicing their souls
Felling you low, without grow

In the corners my screams echoes
The time goes, don’t comes
Don’t lies, spitting blood of the guiltless
Nameless, poor of money, rich of careless

Leave me, eat my heart
Love us down on mud
Can you feel the human
Rottenness? This burn
This kills my mind
I am lying, dying
I’d grind, I’d find
Some bottle of wine

Puked words,
Overflowed feel
Drain full my soul
Taking all my brain
Clean even my stain
Come on you can enjoy
Just pay with your
Life…little unsoul toy
Luiz Guilherme Augsburger

15 de junho de 2007.