Pink Dreams

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate;
I am the captain of my soul.

Have you ever fed a lover with just your hands?
Close your eyes and trust it, just trust it
Have you ever thrown a fist full of glitter in the air?
Have you ever looked fear in the face
And said I just don't care

It's only half past the point of no return
The tip of the ice burg
The sun before the burn
The thunder before lightning
The breathe before the fraze
Have you ever felt this way?

Have you ever hated yourself for staring at the phone?
You're whole life waiting on the ring to prove you're not alone
Have you ever been touch so gently you had to cry?
Have you ever invited a stranger to come inside?

It's only half past the point of oblivion
The hourglass on the table
The walk before the run
The breathe before the kiss
And the fear before the flames
Have you ever felt this way?

La La La La La La La La

There you are, sitting in the garden
Clutching my coffee,
Calling me sugar
You called me sugar

Have you ever wished for an endless night?
Lassoed the moon and the stars and pulled that rope tight
Have you ever held your breathe and asked yourself will it ever get better than tonight?
Tonight
Pink

Teria sido mais giro se não tivesse perdido.... buáaa

Grande Filme a prova de que sem investir milhares em efeitos especiais ainda se faz um filme de cortar a respirar, basta falar de humanidade...

Quem me quiser há-de saber a chuva

Adoro a tua boca, a tua pele,
O sabor guloso dos teus beijos
Como se fossem cerejas ou
Promessas de felicidade eterna.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=12_nJamoyTk

I am not yours, not lost in you,
Not lost, although I long to be
Lost as a candle lit at noon,
Lost as a snowflake in the sea.

You love me, and I find you still
A spirit beautiful and bright,
Yet I am I, who long to be
Lost as a light is lost in light.

Oh plunge me deep in love - put out
My senses, leave me deaf and blind,
Swept by the tempest of your love,
A taper in a rushing wind.

[REPORTERS]
Not sincr Charlie Chaplin
Has there ever been a film Director
Like this

[FIRST REPORTER]
Mrs. Comtini, is there any truth to the rumor
that your marriage is in jeopardy?

[LUISA]
None whatsoever.

My husband makes movies.
To make them he lives a kind of dream
In which his actions aren't always
What they seem.
He may be on to some unique romantic
Theme.
Some men catch fish, some men tie
Flies,
Some earn their living baking bread.
My husband, he goes a little crazy
Making movies instead.

My husband spins fantasies,
He lives them, then gives them to you
All.
When he was working on the film on
Ancient Rome,
He made the slave girls take the
Gladiators home.
Some men buy stocks, some men punch
Clocks,
Some leap where others dare to tread.
My husband as author and director,
Makes up stories in his head.

Guido Contini, Luisa Contini,
Number one genius and number one fan,
Guido Contini, Luisa Contini,
Daughter of well-to-do Florentine
Clan,
Long ago, twenty years ago,
Once the names were Guido Contini,
Luisa Del Forno,
Actress with dreams and a life of her
Own,
Passionate, wild and in love on Livorno,
Singing with Guido all night on the
Phone.
Long ago, someone else ago, how he
Needs me so,
And he'll be the last to know it.

My husband makes movies.
To make them, he makes himself
Obsessed.
He goes for weeks on end without a
Bit of rest,
No other way can he achiev his level
Best.

Some men read books, some shine their
shoes,
Some retire early when they've seen
The evening news.
My husband only rarely comes to bed,
My husband makes movies instead,
My husband...makes movies...

Para quem como eu é pouco dado a simpatizar com as histórias pouco coerentes que a igreja nos tenta impigir, Caim é um delícia. Virtuodo, irónico, parido em jeito de Farpas dos nossos velhor Ortigão e Eça, dá para um belo par de horas de gargalhadas.