08 novembro 2011

I sing a song

I sing a song
A powerfull song of myself
No matter if it's wrong, im wrong
To not sing it to someone else

I feel the lyrics
Without imagine a balad, oh good
No limit is in mind
Let me spread to me and shine

I know my voice
It dont make any sense
But what sense have the life
If we cannot sing what we realize

Now, im trying to sing me
In the top of the sky in rain
Doing with no sense at all
A short description of me, short but full of soul

I am the sky that purefy the friends
A lot of material of cosmopolitan
I am, what no one else
Is in the knowledge of himself

And i am a poeth
A caller of the phone of sky and soul
To make a verse, a poetic hole
On the human no sense life and on no pure man as gold

Now, to make me stronger let name the song like a muse
Let underline the new men younger
To make me him and me confused

Who am i? What the meaning of be me?
Who is the poet im wished to in hobbies be
No response have i, let me sing loud
I am the man, who was born in crowd

I stil have a nacionality problem
Why am i portuguese?
I think this place dont support all my needs
And have a retrograde mentality that im not in

Be myself in this pure song
Let me hear the rain
The water goes down not only by the same ( way)
Floating deeply like a impersonal hand

Flávio pereira