Helping the kids out of their coats
But wait the babies haven't been born oh oh oh
Unpacking the bags and setting up
And planting lilacs and buttercups oh oh oh

But in the meantime
I've got it hard
Second floor living without a yard
It may be years until the day
My dreams will match up with my pay

Old dirt road (mushaboom)
Knee deep snow (mushaboom)
Watching the fire as we grow (mushaboom)

Old I got a man to stick it out
And make a home from a rented house oh oh oh
And we'll collect the moments one by one
I guess that's how the future's done oh oh oh

How many acres how much light
Tucked in the woods and out of sight
Talk to the neighbours and tip my cap
On a little road barely on the map

Old dirt road
Rambling rose (mushaboom)
Watching the fire as we grow (mushaboom)
Well I'm sold ...

Dizem que não há mulher feia.
Também não há má poesia,
que a Natureza tudo premeia.
Não há menina que nasça gentia
nem palavra que nasça alheia.
De quem critica está a vida cheia
e criticar é que é vida vazia

Mas cá para mim
isso são só desculpas
de quem mal se depila,
o buço e o soneto,
o alexandrino e a axila.

Mas cá para mim
isso são só desculpas
para quem tão mal se andraja
com calças largas de homem
a escrever coisas de gaja.

It's not a habit, it's cool
I feel alive
If you don't have it your onthe other side
I'm not an addict (maybe that's a lie).

No one laughs at God in a hospital
No one laughs at God in a war
No one’s laughing at God
When they’re starving or freezing or so very poor

No one laughs at God
When the doctor calls after some routine tests
No one’s laughing at God
When it’s gotten real late
And their kid’s not back from the party yet

No one laughs at God
When their airplane start to uncontrollably shake
No one’s laughing at God
When they see the one they love, hand in hand with someone else
And they hope that they’re mistaken

No one laughs at God
When the cops knock on their door
And they say we got some bad news, sir
No one’s laughing at God
When there’s a famine or fire or flood

But God can be funny
At a cocktail party when listening to a good God-themed joke, or
Or when the crazies say He hates us
And they get so red in the head you think they’re ‘bout to choke
God can be funny,
When told he’ll give you money if you just pray the right way
And when presented like a genie who does magic like Houdini
Or grants wishes like Jiminy Cricket and Santa Claus
God can be so hilarious

No one laughs at God in a hospital
No one laughs at God in a war
No one’s laughing at God
When they’ve lost all they’ve got
And they don’t know what for

No one’s laughing at God
We’re all laughing with God

Ninguém se ri de Deus num hospital
Ninguém se ri de Deus numa guerra
Ninguém está a rir-se de Deus
enquanto está esfomeada, enregelada ou muito pobre

Ninguém se ri de Deus
Quando o médico nos chama depois de fazer análises de rotina
Ninguém está a rir-se de Deus
Quando já é muito tarde
E os filhos ainda não voltaram da festa

Ninguém se ri de Deus
Quando o avião começa a tremer descontroladamente
Ninguém está a rir-se de Deus
Quando vê a pessoa que ama de mão dada com outra pessoa
e espera que esteja enganado

Ninguém se ri de Deus
Quando um polícia bate à porta
E diz que temos más notícias, senhor
Ninguém está a rir-se de Deus
Quando há fome, incêndios ou cheias

Mas Deus pode ser engraçado
Numa festa a ouvir piadas sobre Deus bem humoradas
ou quando os maluquinhos dizem Ele nos detesta
e ficam com a cara tão vermelha que pensamos que estão prestes a sufocar
Deus pode ser engraçado
Quando nos dizem que Ele dá dinheiro se orarmos da maneira certa
e se for apresentado como um génio qua faz magia como o Houdini
ou que concede desejos como o Jiminy Cricket ou o Pai Natal
Deus pode ser hilariante

Ninguém se ri de Deus num hospital
Ninguém se ri de Deus numa guerra
Ninguém está a rir-se de Deus
quando perde tudo o que tem
e não sabe em nome de quê

Ninguém está a rir-se de Deus
Estamos todos a rir com Deus

If you wanna be my friend
You want us to get along
Please do not expect me to
Wrap it up and keep it there
The observation I am doing could
Easily be understood
As cynical demeanour
But one of us misread...
And what do you know
It happened again

A friend is not a means
You utilize to get somewhere
Somehow I didn't notice
friendship is an end
What do you know
It happened again

How come no-one told me
All throughout history
The loneliest people
Were the ones who always spoke the truth
The ones who made a difference
By withstanding the indifference
I guess it's up to me now
Should I take that risk or just smile?

What do you know
It happened again
What do you know


Se quiseres ser meu amigo
queres que nos demos bem
Por favor, não esperes que eu
Deixe sempre as coisas na mesma
Esta observação que estou a fazer
pode facilmente ser entendida
como uma atitude cínica
Mas um de nós percebeu mal
E quem diria
Aconteceu outra vez

Um amigo não é um meio
que se utiliza para chegar a algum lado
por alguma razão, não tinha reparado
a amizade é um fim
e quem diria
aconteceu outra vez

Como é que nunca ninguém me disse
que ao longo da história
as pessoas mais sozinhas
foram aquelas que disseram sempre a verdade
aquelas que fizeram a diferença
ao aguentar a indiferença
Agora é comigo
Devo tomar esse risco, ou simplesmente sorrir?

E quem diria
Aconteceu outra vez
E quem diria

Wayfaring Stranger

Eu sou apenas uma estrangeira de passagem

A viajar por este mundo de mágoa;

E não há doença, sofrimento ou perigo

Na terra brilhante que é o meu destino.

Eu vou lá para ver o meu Pai,

Eu vou lá para me deixar de andar à deriva;

Eu vou atravessar o Jordão,

Eu vou atravessá-lo para ir para casa.

Sei que se vão juntar nuvens escuras à minha volta,

Sei que o meu caminho é árduo e a pique;

E há campos belíssimos mesmo à minha frente,

Onde os redimidos de Deus guardam vigília.

Eu vou lá para ver o meu Pai,

Eu vou lá para me deixar de andar à deriva;

Eu vou atravessar o Jordão,

Eu vou atravessá-lo para ir para casa.

Eu vou lá para ver a minha Mãe,

Eu vou lá para me deixar de andar à deriva;

Eu vou atravessar o Jordão,

Eu vou atravessá-lo para ir para casa.

Quero pôr essa coroa de glória,

Quando chegar a casa nessa terra boa;

Quero proclamar a história da salvação,

Em coro com os que foram lavados pelo sangue,

Eu vou lá para ver o meu Salvador,

Eu vou lá para me deixar de andar à deriva;

Eu vou atravessar o Jordão,

Eu vou atravessá-lo para ir para casa.

(texto original aqui; youtube aqui)

“I need another place
Will there be peace?
I need another world
This one's nearly gone

Still have too many dreams
Never seen the light
I need another world
A place where I can go

I'm gonna miss the sea
I'm gonna miss the snow
I'm gonna miss the bees
I'll miss the things that grow
I'm gonna miss the trees
I'm gonna miss the sound
I'll miss the animals
I'm gonna miss you all

I'm gonna miss the birds
Singing all this songs
Been kissing this so long

Another world”

“I want to conquer you
so badly,
and I want to take you into my bed
and scream "this is war now".
In war there's no love.”

My face is finished, my body's gone.
And I can't help but think standin' up here in all this applause and gazin' down at all the young and the beautiful.
With their questioning eyes.
That I must above all things love myself.

I saw a girl in the crowd,
I ran over I shouted out,
I asked if I could take her out,
But she said that she didn't want to.

I changed the sheets on my bed,
I combed the hairs across my head,
I sucked in my gut and still she said
That she just didn't want to.

I read her Eliot, read her Yeats,
I tried my best to stay up late,
I fixed the hinges on her gate,
But still she just never wanted to.

I bought her a dozen snow-white doves,
I did her dishes in rubber gloves,
I called her Honeybee, I called her Love,
But she just still didn't want to. She just never wants to.

I sent her every type of flower,
I played her guitar by the hour,
I patted her revolting little chihuahua,
But still she just didn't want to.

I wrote a song with a hundred lines,
I picked a bunch of dandelions,
I walked her through the trembling pines,
But she just even then didn't want to. She just never wants to.

I thought I'd try another tack,
I drank a litre of cognac,
I threw her down upon her back,
But she just lay up and said that she just didn't want to.

I thought I'd have another go,
I called her my little ho,
I felt like Marcel Marceau
must feel when she said that she just never wanted to. She just didn't want to.

I got the no pussy blues

I'm gettin tired of your shit
You don't never buy me nothin'
See everytime you come around
You got to bring Jim, James, Paul, and Tyrone
See why can't we be by ourselves, sometimes
See I've been having this on my mind
For a long time
I just want it to be
You and me
Like it used to be, baby
But ya don't know how to act
So matter of fact

I think ya better call tyrone
(call him)
And tell him come on, help you get your shit (come on, come on)

You need to call tyrone
(call him)
And tell him I said come on

Now everytime I ask you for a little cash
You say no and turn right around and ask me for some ass
Oh, well hold up
Listen partna
I ain't no cheap thrill
Cause miss Badu is always comin for real
And you know the deal

Everytime we go somewhere
I gotta reach down in my purse
To pay your way and your homeboys way
And sometimes your cousins way

They don't never have to pay
Don't have no cars
Hang around in bars
Try to hang around with stars
Like badu
I'm gonna tell you the truth
Showing groove
Or get the boot

I think ya better,
(call him)
And tell him come on
Help you get your shit

You need to call tyron
(call him)
But ya can't use my phone

No thank you. No thank you. No thank you. No thank you!
I ain't about to to die like this!
I can't afford chemo like I can't afford a limo!
And besides, this shit is making me tired!
It's making me tired!
It's making me die!
You know I plan to retire some day,
And I'm-a gonna go out in style!
...Go out in style.
This shit it's making me tired!
It's making me tired!
It's making me die!
I'm-a gonna go out in style go out in style.

Is it much to admit I need
A solid soul and the blood I bleed
With a little girl, and by my spouse
I only want a proper house

I don't care for fancy things
Or to take part in a precious race
And children cry for the one who has
A real big heart and a father's grace

I don't mean to seem like I care about material things like a social status
I just want four walls and adobe slabs for my girls

Surrender your crown on this blood-stained ground, take off your mask
He sees your deeds, He knows your needs even before you ask
How long can you falsify and deny what is real ?
How long can you hate yourself for the weakness you conceal ?
Of every earthly plan that be known to man, He is unconcerned
He's got plans of his own to set up His throne
When He return.

De noite, eu rondo a cidade,
a te procurar, sem encontrar.
No meio de olhares, espio
por todos os bares, você não está.
Volto prá casa abatida,
desencantada da vida,
o sonho alegria me dá,
nele você está.
Ah, se eu tivesse
quem bem me quisesse,
esse alguém me diria:
Desiste, esta busca é inútil,
eu não desistia.
Porém, com perfeita paciência,
volto a te buscar, sem encontrar,
bebendo com outras mulheres,
rolando um dadinho, jogando bilhar.
E nesse dia, então,
vai dar na primeira edição:
Cena de sangue num bar
da Avenida São João.

Condemnation
Tried
Here on the stand
With the book in my hand
And truth on my side

Accusations
Lies
Hand me my sentence
I'll show no repentance
I'll suffer with pride

If for honesty
You want apologies
I don't sympathize

If for kindness
You substitute blindness
Please open your eyes

Condemnation
Why
Because my duty
Was always to beauty
And that was my crime

Feel elation
High
To know I can trust this
Fix of injustice
Time after time

If you see purity
As immaturity
Well it's no surprise

If for kindness
You substitute blindness
Please open your eyes

Com seis dedos nos seus pés,

e três olhos na sua face,

duas antenas na sua cabeça,

mas mesmo assim gostam de nós.

São os homenzinhos verdes,

são nossos amigos,

os homenzinhos verdes.

Se foi Deus que quis assim
Nem tu sabes nem eu sei
Mas tenho-te presa a mim
Por tudo o que não te dei

Se eu te desse o que tu queres
Quem sabe se nesse dia
Depois de tu me prenderes
Eu nunca mais te prendia

E se me queres como sou
Não me queiras prisioneiro
Não te daria o que dou
Se me desse por inteiro
Só posso dar-te o que dou
Porque não me dou por inteiro
Só espero que tu entendas
Que prefiro que me deixes
A deixar que tu me prendas

Bem sei que é contradição
Eu pedir-te liberdade
Sabendo que a condição
É ficar preso à saudade

Your sorry eyes cut through the bone
They make it hard to leave you alone
Leave you here wearing your wounds
Waving your guns at somebody new

(...) There's a place where you are going
You ain't never been before
No one left to watch your back now
No one standing at your door
That's what you thought love was for

(...) Baby you're a lost cause

Do you remember my sister? How many mistakes did she make with those never blinking eyes? I couldn’t work it out. I swear she could read your mind, your life, the depths of your soul at one glance. Maybe she was stripping herself away, saying
Here I am, this is me
I am yours and everything about me, everything you see...
If only you look hard enough
I never could.
Our life was a pillow-fight. We’d stand there on the quilt, our hands clenched ready. Her with her milky teeth, so late for her age, and a Stanley knife in her hand. She sliced the tyres on my bike and I couldn’t forgive her.
She went blind at the age of five. We’d stand at the bedroom window and she’d get me to tell her what I saw. I’d describe the houses opposite, the little patch of grass next to the path, the gate with its rotten hinges forever wedged open that Dad was always going to fix. She’d stand there quiet for a moment. I thought she was trying to develop the images in her own head. Then she’d say:
I can see little twinkly stars,
like Christmas tree lights in faraway windows.
Rings of brightly coloured rocks
floating around orange and mustard planets.
I can see huge tiger striped fishes
chasing tiny blue and yellow dashes,
all tails and fins and bubbles.
I’d look at the grey house opposite, and close the curtains.
She burned down the house when she was ten. I was away camping with the scouts. The fireman said she’d been smoking in bed - the old story, I thought. The cat and our mum died in the flames, so Dad took us to stay with our Aunt in the country. He went back to London to find us a new house. We never saw him again.
On her thirteenth birthday she fell down the well in our Aunt’s garden and broke her head. She’d been drinking heavily. On her recovery her sight returned, a fluke of nature everyone said. That’s when she said she’d never blink again. I would tell her when she started at me, with her eyes wide and watery, that they reminded me of the well she fell into. She liked this, it made her laugh.
She moved in with a gym teacher when she was fifteen, all muscles he was. He lost his job when it all came out, and couldn’t get another one. Not in that kind of small town. Everybody knew everyone else’s business. My sister would hold her head high, though. She said she was in love. They were together for five years until one day he lost his temper. He hit her over the back of the neck with his bullworker. She lost the use of the right side of her body. He got three years and was out in fifteen months. We saw him a while later, he was coaching a non-league football team in a Cornwall seaside town. I don’t think he recognised her. My sister had put on a lot of weight from being in a chair all the time. She’d get me to stick pins and stub out cigarettes in her right hand. She’d laugh like mad because it didn’t hurt. Her left hand was pretty good though. We’d have arm wrestling matches, I’d have to use both arms and she’d still beat me.
We buried her when she was 32. Me and my Aunt, the vicar, and the man who dug the hole. She said she didn’t want to be cremated and wanted a cheap coffin so the worms could get to her quickly. She said she liked the idea of it, though I thought it was because of what happened to the cat and our mum."