:: Mardoux Mardoux... ::

::30.8.03:: BITTER END Caramba...Uma inofensiva mp3 no início de uma noite estranha no trabalho, e olha só a letra que me aparece...Será um sinal???? Malditos comments que sumiram... The Bitter End Placebo Since we're feeling so anesthetised In our comfort zone Reminds me of the second time That I followed you home We're running out of alibis From the second of May Reminds me of the summer time On this winter's day See you at the bitter end See you at the bitter end Every step we take that's synchronized Every broken bone Reminds me of the second time That I followed you home You shower me with lullabies As you're walking away Reminds me that it's killing time On this fateful day See you at the bitter end See you at the bitter end See you at the bitter end See you at the bitter end From the time we intercepted Feels more like suicide... See you at the bitter end :: Marcia Furriel 7:26 p.m. [+] :: ... Comments: Enviar um comentário

[::..perfil..::] "...[R]eturning to the Red Drum for sets, to hear Bird, whom I saw distinctly digging Mardou several times also myself directly into my eye looking to search if I was really the great writer I thought myself to be as if he knew my thoughts and ambitions or remembered me from other night clubs and other coasts, other Chicagos--not a challenging look but the king and founder of the bop generation at least the sound of it in digging his audience digging his eyes, the secret eyes him-watching, as he just pursed his lips and let great lungs and immortal fingers work, his eyes separate and interested and humane, the kindest jazz musician there could be while being and therefore naturally the greatest--watching Mardou and me in the infancy of our love and probably wondering why, or knowing it wouldn't last, or seeing who it was would be hurt, as now, obviously, but not quite yet, it was Mardou whose eyes were shining in my direction, though I could not have known and now do not definitely know--except the one fact, on the way home, the session over the beer in the Mask drunk we went home on the Third Street bus sadly through night and throb knock neons and when I suddenly leaned over her to shout something further (in her secret self as later confessed) her heart leapt to smell the "sweetness of my breath" (quote) and suddenly she almost loved me--" DO LIVRO The Subterraneans [::.. perfil sarcástico..::]