tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-124367922024-03-07T09:48:23.908+00:00Fio D'Água<img
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<!-- <center>Lisbon's Burning - Clashback 2006</center> -->Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger4125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12436792.post-25399094591855507432008-12-19T16:38:00.001+00:002008-12-19T16:41:46.040+00:00Nébula<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhviteHEdtHr3DPAZHX6j7MZ_Aq2vfARjWaQ7oWilrD1OkW7wTcnGZLOF9yryew4ZMPrRVja99gVCjXnZ2l4VOSIC86g1cRIMPDtucsoc3aJqraLL39VRdsYHpzFn5hn7U6oJFv/s1600-h/Torre+de+Moncorvo+-+Pra%C3%A7a.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhviteHEdtHr3DPAZHX6j7MZ_Aq2vfARjWaQ7oWilrD1OkW7wTcnGZLOF9yryew4ZMPrRVja99gVCjXnZ2l4VOSIC86g1cRIMPDtucsoc3aJqraLL39VRdsYHpzFn5hn7U6oJFv/s400/Torre+de+Moncorvo+-+Pra%C3%A7a.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281541774920092274" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12436792.post-43771440299984638882008-05-20T01:05:00.009+01:002008-06-23T23:03:44.041+01:00Evidently Chicken Town<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeYrb_4b-CcibkPw_0h6FYeU2vJet5jy-rSqVCRspV7Pcd1mzrdP8Y4tIn1LR8mqinuOYNtvdjgbVPeVUNmwdrWs26ruZJpIPpYYhiYWYIn-oVcoL5PHylZ4nd5hHdVBbLDRQ4/s1600-h/starrynight6rh.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeYrb_4b-CcibkPw_0h6FYeU2vJet5jy-rSqVCRspV7Pcd1mzrdP8Y4tIn1LR8mqinuOYNtvdjgbVPeVUNmwdrWs26ruZJpIPpYYhiYWYIn-oVcoL5PHylZ4nd5hHdVBbLDRQ4/s400/starrynight6rh.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202252885389257250" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">Van Gogh<br /></span></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">the fucking cops are fucking keen<br />to fucking keep it fucking clean<br />the fucking chief's a fucking swine<br />who fucking draws a fucking line<br />at fucking fun and fucking games<br />the fucking kids he fucking blames<br />are nowehere to be fucking found<br />anywhere in chicken town<br /><br />the fucking scene is fucking sad<br />the fucking news is fucking bad<br />the fucking weed is fucking turf<br />the fucking speed is fucking surf<br />the fucking folks are fucking daft<br />don't make me fucking laugh<br />it fucking hurts to look around<br />everywhere in chicken town<br /><br />the fucking train is fucking late<br />you fucking wait you fucking wait<br />you're fucking lost and fucking found<br />stuck in fucking chicken town<br /><br />the fucking view is fucking vile<br />for fucking miles and fucking miles<br />the fucking babies fucking cry<br />the fucking flowers fucking die<br />the fucking food is fucking muck<br />the fucking drains are fucking fucked<br />the colour scheme is fucking brown<br />everywhere in chicken town<br /><br />the fucking pubs are fucking dull<br />the fucking clubs are fucking full<br />of fucking girls and fucking guys<br />with fucking murder in their eyes<br />a fucking bloke is fucking stabbed<br />waiting for a fucking cab<br />you fucking stay at fucking home<br />the fucking neighbors fucking moan<br />keep the fucking racket down<br />this is fucking chicken town<br /><br />the fucking train is fucking late<br />you fucking wait you fucking wait<br />you're fucking lost and fucking found<br />stuck in fucking chicken town<br /><br />the fucking pies are fucking old<br />the fucking chips are fucking cold<br />the fucking beer is fucking flat<br />the fucking flats have fucking rats<br />the fucking clocks are fucking wrong<br />the fucking days are fucking long<br />it fucking gets you fucking down<br /><br />evidently chicken town<br /><br /><span style="" lang="EN-US"><a href="http://www.johncooperclarke.com/"><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);">LYRICS © JOHN COOPER CLARKE</span></a> </span><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12436792.post-1118271129839315312005-06-08T23:52:00.002+01:002008-02-14T19:54:50.697+00:00Meio...<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/107/1728/640/bpw_ge_it78_staglieno1.jpg"><img class="phostImg" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/107/1728/400/bpw_ge_it78_staglieno1.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /></div> <div style="text-align: center;"><br />~~~<br /><br />Meio anjo<br />Meio nada<br />Meio tudo<br />Meio de mim<br />Meio de ti<br />Medo de nada<br />Medo de tudo<br />Mexe o silêncio<br />Abre-se a porta<br />Solta-se o grito<br />Fecham-se os olhos<br />Nasce a palavra<br />Andam os passos<br />Cresce a certeza<br />Cala-se o mundo<br />Vê-se a tristeza<br />Vem o refúgio<br />Dou-te a mão<br />Dás-me o sentido<br />Largam-se amarras<br />Apertam-se os laços<br />Sente-se o beijo<br />Respira-se fundo<br />Parte-se com rumo<br /><br />Meio anjo<br />Meio nada<br />Meio... tudo<br /><br />~~~<br /><br /><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12436792.post-1116627695373458372005-05-20T23:21:00.001+01:002008-05-10T02:40:39.173+01:00Próximos do Tempo<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/107/1728/640/Image29.jpg"><img class="phostImg" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/107/1728/400/Image210.jpg" border="0" width="400" /></a><br /></div> <div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);">(c) Bernard Pierre Wolf<br /><br /><br /></span></span></div> <div style="text-align: center;">Sabemos que todos os dias<br />Algo morre dentro de nós<br />Para que algo nasça em seu lugar<br />E na proximidade do tempo<br />Somos os exploradores da eternidade<br />Ao encontro dos mistérios revelados<br />Perdidos na memória dos dias<br />Que fomos esquecendo<br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com