sábado, novembro 02, 2013

[I’m the cleaning Lady of the broken hearts]


Let me cry for all these little men 
Building their bridges of sand: 
Nothing more than children, with children in their hands. 

Deep into their silence, stronger than their words, 
Runs a cold wild river to the sea of love. 

I’m the cleaning Lady of the broken hearts. 
I’m the Virgin Mary of the psychopaths. 
I’m god’s only witness that they fall apart 
When they touch the fire of the ancient stars 

When the rain starts falling on their hearts, 
All Hitler’s and Bonaparte’s 
Hide inside my red dress like motherless pets. 
They produce the tears, they invent the bombs, 
They spread out the fears 
And they come home all alone

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