quarta-feira, 7 de março de 2012


Gently behind the beat
We shuffle on ancient streets
The reverb of time
Is our vantage point
We slept for a million years
Lived through a million fears
We are not nervous
We will not ask for more
Pawns of the troubled times
And kings of our petty crimes
The minds will function
With a small delay
See what the past has planned
The future's a beggar's hand
The more we understand
The slower our days

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