Rê Borbosa

These Boots Are made For Walking Original

"In a heart full of dust, lies a creature called Lust"

That creature came into live by a drawing made of white chalk,

an ancient voodoo ritual, carving on the flesh of a lonely heart.

Empowered by emptiness, it's will was to take humans to the borderline.

It tastes better then an old aged wine,

but the resulting hangover wouldn't seem that divine.

It smells like heaven would tonight,

charming and seductive just like any ordinary vampire.

Burning slowly little bits of our soul, it bites.

It sounds like a Gibson electric guitar,

brought alive by a nasty punk rock star.

But it might break you down very loudly, 

toasted by a million watts of electricity, chocking.

Oh yeah, it is definitely colorful on it's black and white,

it inspires wars, rende-vous, vernissages...

It's seen even by those who are blind,

it orgastically pumps out your eyes.

Hedonists and their swords,

Shall they all regret where they put their noses?

Shall they all deny Miss Take and her poses?

Where to go? I do not dare to know.

But they surely shall forget their rage,

blow the dullness of the enchanted chalk and

take themselves out of the golden cage.

Title quoted from Bjork, in Isobel

Sweety Punky

A História relata que naquela terra montanhosa de entre rios existiu uma grande urbes. Lá abrigavam-se seres humanas denominadas paulistas.

Num dia como esse, a qualquer hora imprópria, eram sempre vistas e revistas, amontoadas na pressa da concretude urbana.

Inspiravam...

referências para organismos robóticos, biônicos, silicônicos...

Expiravam...

sagacidade, neuroses, uma amável confusão.

Parece mesmo que, como precárias seres orgânicas, ainda executavam os movimentos respiratórios. Alguns afirmam que também sentiam. E que por sentir, enlouqueciam.

Precisadas de ar e sentidos, lutavam, executavam sacrifícios, abraçavam transmutações e adaptações.

Para que serviram?

Para que servir?

Diz a lenda que por aí escondidas ainda existem seres paulistas.

Sirvam-se.