“We are like roses that have never bothered to bloom when we should have bloomed and it is as if the sun has become disgusted with waiting”.

03
Set 13


I want to fly into the sun

Need faith to make me numb

Live like a teenage Christ

I'm a saint, got a date with suicide

 

Oh Mary, Mary

To be this young is oh so scary

Mary, Mary

To be this young I'm oh so scared

I wanna live, I wanna love

But it's a long hard road, out of hell

I wanna live, I wanna love

But it's a long hard road, out of hell

   

You never said forever, could ever hurt like this

You never said forever, could ever hurt like this

 

Spin my way out of hell

There's nothing left of this soul to sell

Live fast and die fast too

How many times to do this for you?

How many times to do this for you?

 

Mary, Mary

To be this young I'm oh so scared

I wanna live, I wanna love

But it's a long hard road, out of hell

I wanna live, I wanna love

But it's a long hard road, out of hell

 

You never said forever, could ever hurt like this

You never said forever, could ever hurt like this

 

I wanna live, I wanna love

But it's a long hard road, out of hell

 

Long hard road, out of hell

 

I wanna live, I wanna love

But it's a long hard road, out of hell

 

Sell my soul for anything, anything but you

Sell my soul for anything, anything but you


Long Hard Road out of Hell by Marilyn Manson/Letra da autoria de Marilyn Manson


publicado por Ligeia Noire às 15:15
sinto-me: Oh Mary, Mary, Mary...

24
Jun 13
 

This is the film

close to the third act and the misery

this isn't rain

you rapist werewolves

this is god pissing down on you

Don't worry,

you won't die alone

I'll break off my own arms and

sharpen my bones and

stab you once for each time

I thought of you,

trying to take something

you'll never be good enough

to even look upon

 

it's better to push something when it's slipping

than to risk being dragged down

 

If you want to hit bottom

don't bother taking me with you

and I won't answer if you call

I'm two heartbeats ahead in hell

trying to break your fall

 

this isn't a mob,

I won't need to change

to change the names

everyone around you has murdered

someone's something sacred

there isn't one nail without dirt under it

there isn't any "white cotton panties"

that aren't soaked and stained red

 

it's better to push something when it's slipping

than to risk being dragged down

 

If you want to hit bottom

don't bother taking me with you

and I won't answer if you call

I'm two heartbeats ahead in hell

trying to break your fall

 

into the fire

 

Lyrics by M.M./Letra da autoria de M.M.


publicado por Ligeia Noire às 15:05

21
Mar 13


Intro:

Oiço Líam e já tenho vergonha de gostar de todos os projectos e bandas em que o alemão, (e já agora o francês) põem as mãos, foda-se já parece caçada da minha parte, irra!


Voltando às coisas inúteis…

Ainda gostava de saber qual é o problema de certas figuras em aceitar o entendimento dos outros sem mandar o seu bitaite, a sua crítica acotovelada, sarnenta, bolorenta e corrosiva.

Sou a maior das assíduas no que ao humor corrosivo diz respeito mas detesto quando é usado para mostrar superioridade: eu sou melhor do que tu.

Escrevo estas palavras com uma pessoa visível na minha cabeça, foi por isso que deixei de a suportar, mimo, choros de atenção e mania… foda-se vira aí o leme marinheiro que não era disto que eu queria falar.

Era do senhor doutor, não, não vou mencionar a graça do excelso.

O pessoal achava-o pouco atraente mas eu até que tinha vontades de debicar, deve ter sido por causa do cabelo à Keanu Reeves e pela vontade que ele tinha de me desafiar.

Já lá vão uns bons anos mas confesso ainda me lembrar de quando ele me encavacava por estar desatenta a mexer no cabelo.

Bem, mas ia eu dizendo que não gosto quando se armam em espertos e o senhor professor nutria uma certa, como dizer, tendência em provocar aqui a petiza, dito assim, soa a narcisismo e a supra auto-estima da minha parte mas contra factos não há argumentos.

Isto é: todas as criancinhas que por ai pululam e que se vestem de forma pouco tradicional sabem o quão -anhos apetitosos- parecemos a estes intelectuais rebeldes de idade adulta :

"Olha-me esta, ah és contra o sistema, ai achas-te muito insubmissa, deixa-te começar a trabalhar. Deixa passar uns aninhos que eu quero ver…"

Ele leccionava uma espécie de História misturada com sociologia, quer dizer, ambas se complementam…

E nem sequer falei mas ah e tal splash:

"O Marilyn Manson, ah esse gajo armado em mauzão, esses gajos muita maus na tropa são os primeiros a choramingar… sabia dona (cof, cof) que essa figura se veste com roupas de marca, tipo dolce gabbana, aparece em revistas da moda, é tudo dinheiro."

Foi mais ou menos isto que ele palrou, não sei bem o que respondi... provavelmente que não me importava e que o que me interessava era a música, como ainda é mas hoje que já se me acrescentaram uns anos teria vontade de usar os meus mais altos sapatos, prender o cabelo num alto rabo-de-cavalo e pela noite encontrar-lhe o aposento e fodê-lo sem deixar número de telefone.

Ah e para que conste, senhor doutor, ele nunca disse não querer ser popular ou comercial, quer dizer até aquele cd de música da Etiópia, que poderia ter passado no festival de Sines, estará numa qualquer estante de uma grande superfície, é isso que é ser comercial, é ter um preço.

Mas eu percebo senhor doutor, o seu rumo, ele é mainstream na na na na, sim bebé, sente-se feliz agora, acha que é mais do que eu agora?

Olhe que esses anos todos que disse, já passaram. Aliás, metade deles já tinham passado quando falou.

Claro que sim, claro que é comercial mas esse sempre foi o objectivo, chegar ao maior número de pessoas possível, se ele quisesse ser underground teria seguido um estilo pouco popular como o jazz ou o industrial experimental dos Einstürzende Neubauten, não o metal.

E aí provavelmente o senhor doutor já ouviria e até mostraria e partilharia com os seus colegas doutores.

Agora este gajo de espartilho e plataformas, que mudou a música, as mentalidades, que usou e abusou da comunicação social e a virou contra si própria, o homem que apresenta, na trilogia irrepreensível, a dicotomia americana, o fascismo do cristianismo, a podridão dos valores morais e o niilismo do século vinte e um, fogo não usa óculos e camisa axadrezada ah e gosta de se divertir, do prazer, não, claro que não pode ser legítimo.

Quanto à dolce gabbana, bem sabia que ele vestia Marc Jaccobs, talvez Viviene Westwood, Galliano… a dolce gabbana não é só a marca das calças de ganga deslavadas hediondas das dondocas é também a delícia do desfile do ano transacto de Outono/Inverno, eles apenas fazem em massa o que sabem que irá vender.

A procura manda, o dinheiro é o que todos buscamos, não?

Lição primordial de planeamento e controlo da produção.

O Alexander Mcqueen veio dos subúrbios, era um pós-punk antes de se tornar na marca de alta-costura que é hoje, aliás ele fez daquilo que era, um mundo acessível… é nas subculturas que os criadores vão buscar ideias e é ao amacia-las, tornando-as domesticadas que o público geral lhes acha piada e as quer porque mostra status, porque foi aprovado, porque toda a gente bonita -the beautiful people- usa, porque está in já se pode usar, sem correr o risco de se ser apontado, exactamente o oposto do que é ser livre e pensante.

Aliás não é o que todo o misantropo sonha?

Viver daquilo que gosta?

Ter uma vida desafogada e poder durar num castelo de pontas aguçadas e não ter de contactar com meros mortais?

E a cena das revistas da moda, é uma boa treta, só se for numa de escárnio, pois que eu saiba só apareceu num editorial da Vogue aquando do casamento mas, quer dizer, com uma mulher deslumbrante daquelas, uma mulher dona de si, livre e imersa numa criação da Vivienne, num castelo na Irlanda, com o Jodorowsky presente e o Gottfried a celebrar e pavões nas imediações… crime seria não podermos ver.

É a velha estória, de que já aqui falei:

o nariz vermelho do palhaço.

Tomemos atenção: porque usava camisola de manga curta lisa e calças de ganga só podia ser muito mais genuíno, inteligente, ilustrado e trve do que uma fulana de cabelo heterodoxamente comprido e eyeliner…

Já o disse e volto a dizer, não é o desejo de atenção, é o idealismo de que um dia viveremos num mundo onde cada um se vestirá como quiser, sem ninguém ligar um chavo.

E como disse a senhora de negro, vamos lá ser sérios, não podemos agradar a Gregos e Troianos, há que assumir aquilo que somos sempre.

Portanto ah e tal que curto muito disto mas não preciso de me vestir assim é treta.

A única absolvição é o trabalho e se não usares o encarneiramento do uniforme, a coisa boa do espalhanço que isto levou, e que espero que esteja a passar, é que está tudo mais perto e a escolha abunda, pode-se perfeitamente amenizar a coisa no horário nobre para depois a aflorar fora do período de esclavagismo.

Se se for coveiro ou empregado numa funerária nada disto se aplicará.


The horrible people, the horrible people
It's as anatomic as the size of your steeple
Capitalism has made it this way,
Old-fashioned fascism will take it away


 

publicado por Ligeia Noire às 01:21
música: "II" dos Líam

26
Jun 12


We are damned and we are dead

all god's children to be sent

to our perfect place

in the sun and in the dirt

 

There's a windshield in my heart

we are bugs so smeared and scarred

and could you stop the meat from thinking

before I swallow all of it,

could you please?

 

Put me in the motorcade

put me in the death parade

dress me up and make me

dress me up and make me

your dying god 

 

angel with needles

poked through our eyes

and let the ugly light

of the world in

and we were no longer blind

and we were no longer blind

 

Put me in the motorcade

put me in the death parade

dress me up and make me

dress me up and make me

your dying god


Now we hold the "ugly head"

the Mary-whore is at the bed

They've cast the shadow of our perfect death

in the sun and in the dirt.


A place in the dirt by Marilyn Manson/A place in the dirt dos Marilyn Manson

publicado por Ligeia Noire às 02:04

11
Abr 12


I’m not man enough to be human

but I’m trying to fit in

and I’m learning to fake it


Don’t ever meet their friends

It tells you too much

or not enough

or worse

exactly the wrong thing

every nuance

every detail

every movement

every smell

sound

phrase

the way she laughs

these are all the things that you either obsessively fetishize

or make yourself grow to love

although you are supposed to be done growing

she is still growing

its like a garden with two flowers

one just blooming and casting a shadow

just like yours

and then it becomes a struggle

of sunlight

or rain

or weeds

 

She and every she

is doomed to be your idea of her

she and every she

is doomed to be your idea of her


I’m not man enough to be human

but I’m trying to fit in

and I’m learning to fake it

but worse so,


back to the point

you are no longer the flower

and the sun

and most importantly the garden

or the gardener

a muse

your amusement

I am used

its all ruined if you meet their friends


she and every she

is doomed to be your idea of her

I’m not man enough to be human

but I’m trying to fit in

and I’m learning to fake it


you never wanted to share

your concept of your creation

with any other gods or worshippers

your book isn’t burned

it was never written

your book isn’t burned

it was never written


I’m not man enough to be human

but I’m trying to fit in

and I’m learning to fake it

 

Lyrics by Marilyn Manson (credits: MansonWiki)/Letra da autoria de Marilyn Manson (cortesia de: MansonWiki)

 

Post Scriptum: Flores.


publicado por Ligeia Noire às 18:10

23
Mar 12


Se permanecermos no carreiro desalumiado e esburacado da estória, chegaremos ao último dos seus capítulos e deixaremos de reparar nos buracos e os nossos pés guiar-se-ão pelo breu como se de raízes esfaimadas se tratassem.


My pilot light has flickered out

You've knocked me off the hook

The person you are trying to reach is no longer here

I'm not really tall, dark and handsome

I just look that way

I'm a canvas that bleeds

And I'm painted with fingers

Childish pictures

Of you that still linger

Bury you're wasted into the moon

Hoping that it sinks to the earth soon

Bury you're wasted into the moon

I hope that it sinks into the earth soon

My pilot light has flickered out

You've knocked me off the hook

The person you are trying to reach is no longer here

I'm a canvas that bleeds

And I'm painted with fingers

Childish pictures of you that still linger

I am a VCR

A funeral of dead memory waste

I'm a VCR

A funeral of dead memory waste

You can see it on my face

I'm a VCR funeral

Of dead memory waste

You can see it on my face

My smile is a chain link fence

I dare not frown

For fear of what comes out

My smile is a chain link fence

And I dare not frown for fear of what comes out

Sing a song kitty

Sing it

Sing it kitty

Sing it

Some people don't think that Lily

Is smart enough to understand what I'm thinking

But I know if she could she would kill

Everybody that I hate, 'cause she loves me

'Cause I took care of her since she was a little baby

I am a VCR funeral of dead memory waste

You can see it in my face

As drink crawls down the esophagus staircase

Into my bowels of hell

Naked like clown faces all smeared clean

Naked like clown faces all smeared clean in the spotlight

Naked like clown faces all smeared clean in the spotlight

I'm a VCR funeral of dead memory waste you can see it on my face

Dead memory waste

Kill me, kill everyone, you can let them all die

The only thing in this world that does not die is money

You can kill me, you can kill them, you can let everyone die

The only thing in this world that does not die is money

You can kill me, you can kill them, you can let everyone die

The only thing immortal in this world is money

You can kill me, you can kill them, you can let everything die

The only thing immortal in this world is money

The only thing immoral in this world is money

The only thing oral in this world is money

The only thing in this is money

The only thing is me

The

Me

Thee

The only thing immortal in this world is money

The person you are trying to reach is no longer here

You have knocked me off the hook

The person you are trying to reach is no longer here

You have knocked me off the hook

You are afraid that you are no equal

While you are spending my money

You are afraid you are no equal while you are spending my money

You can kill me, you can kill them, you can let everyone die

The only thing immortal in this world is money

Why would I want to be equal with anyone?

You think you're not equal while you're spending my money

Why would I want to be equal with anyone?

Why would I want to be equal with anyone?

To be equal you have to add or subtract

And I have never liked math

To be equal you have to add or subtract

And I have never liked math

You are recognizable, as just another part in a vast machine

You are recognizable, as just another part in a vast machine

The only thing immortal in this world is money

The only thing original in this world is the way we destroy things

Everything has already been created

So we can only deal with new ways of destroying them

Everything has already been created

So we can only think of new ways of destroying them

Stop rehearsing alcohol and start performing narcotics

Stop rehearsing alcohol and start performing narcotics

Stop rehearsing alcohol and start performing narcotics

Do you think that animals believe in God?

Do you think that animals believe in God?

Do you think that animals believe in God?

To be equal you must add or subtract

People who want to be equal have lives that are filled with subtractions and auditions

To be equal you must add or subtract

People who want to be equal's lives' are filled with subtractions and auditions

We will call you back and tell you

Don't call us, we'll call you

Don't call us, we'll call you

Do animals believe in God?

Do animals believe in God?

Do animals believe in God?

Do animals believe in God?

Stop rehearsing alcohol and start performing narcotics

This is a Caucasian occasion

This is a Caucasian occasion

Could someone please autograph the frontal lobe?

Could someone please autograph the frontal lobe?

The insurance will not cover this

Could someone please autograph the frontal lobe?

The insurance will not cover this

Can someone please autograph the frontal lobe, the insurance will not cover this

And the young are too senile

The young are too senile

The young are too senile

The young are too senile

The young are too senile

The young are too senile

The young are too senile

The young are too senile

The young are too senile

The young sieg heil

The young sieg heil

Young are too senile

The young sieg heil

Do animals believe in god?

Do animals believe in god?

Do animals believe in god?

I'm a kickstand in your mouth

I am a kickstand in your mouth

I am a kickstand in your mouth

I am a kickstand in your mouth

The insurance won't cover this

The insurance won't cover this

You can run as fast as you want

But you can never outrun the cliché

You can run as fast as you want

But you can never outrun the cliché

You can run as fast as you want

But you can never outrun the cliché

The young are senile, the young are senile

Have I outgrown my spotlight?

Have I outgrown my spotlight?

Have I outgrown my spotlight?

My pupils are not students, they dilate but they never learn

My pupils are not students, they dilate but they never learn

My pupils are not students, they dilate but they never learn

My pupils are not students, they dilate but they never learn

Each time we roll up the dollar bill, we suffocate the president

Each time we roll up a dollar bill, we suffocate the president

Each time we roll up the dollar bill, we are suffocating the president

Each time we roll up the dollar bill, we suffocate the president

Just say now

Would you suck America's tits?

I want you to just say now, would you suck America's tits?

I want you to just say now, would you suck America's tits?

I want you to just say now, would you suck America's tits?

I want downloadable suicide

I want downloadable suicide

I want downloadable suicide

I want downloadable suicide

I want downloadable suicide

I want everything when I want it and I want it now

I want everything when I want it and I want it now

I want everything before I want it and I already wanted it so I don't want it anymore

I want everything when I want it and I want it now

I want everything before I want it so I don't want it anymore

I want downloadable suicide

I want a newer version

I want downloadable suicide

I want a newer version

I want downloadable suicide

Version I don't know

Version I don't point know

Version I don't point no

Version I point the gun at me

Oh

Oh

Version I don't know

Version I point the gun at me point Oh oh oh oh oh

I want downloadable suicide

If I sneeze will anyone bless me?

If I sneeze will anyone bless me?

If I sneeze will anyone bless me?

Stop rehearsing alcohol and start performing narcotics

I keep watering a dead flower

Keep watering a dead flower

Keep watering the dead flower

Keep watering a dead flower

Keep watering a dead flower

Keep watering a dead flower

Keep watering a dead flower

Keep watering a dead flower

Everything I make is a piece of plant

And some day it could have been a flower

And the things that are flowers are dead

Till I keep watering a dead flower

Keep watering a dead flower

There's not enough of me to make a bouquet

There's not enough of me to make a bouquet

Stop watering the dead flower

Stop watering a dead flower

Stop watering a dead flower

I have no balance

I am like snow

And I melt away

I have no balance and I am like snow and I melt away

I have to balance I am like snow And I melt away

As you are listening

I want you to know

That you are nothing

But a screen that I will project

My images of sorrow, pain and sex upon

Although there is no difference between the three

As you are listening

I want you to know

That you are nothing

But a screen that I will project

My images of sorrow, pain and sex upon

Although there is no difference between the three

As you are listening

I want you to know that you are only a screen

That I project my images of sorrow, pain and suffering and sex upon

Although there is no difference between the three and the one

As you are listening I want you to know that you are nothing but a screen

That I project my images of suffering, sorrow, pain, sex

And the brief glimmer of happiness I find in the misery

Of those who are sitting in the theatre of which this screen exists

I want you to know as you are listening

That you are nothing but a screen

That I project my images of sorrow, pain, suffering, sex

And the brief glimpse of happiness I get from the misery

Of those who sit in the theatre that this screen exists will feel while they listen

The brief glimpse of happiness that I feel as

Those who sit in the theatre that this screen exists will feel as they listen

This isn't about music

This is about the difference between you and me

This isn't about music

This is about the difference between you and me

This isn't about music

This is about the difference between you and me

This isn't about music

This is about the difference between you and me

This isn't about music

This is about the difference between you and me

I am a birthday cake that we light up, blow out, cut apart and forget

I am a birthday cake that you light up, blow out, cut apart and forget

I am a birthday cake that you light up, blow out, cut apart, devour and forget

I am a birthday cake that you light up, blow out, cut apart, devour and forget

And I'm just like a holiday because I make everyone in the family cry

And I'm just like a holiday because I make everyone in the family cry

And I'm just like a holiday because I make everyone in the family cry

Love your enemy because love is the enemy

Love your enemy because love is the enemy

Love your enemy because love is the enemy

Love your enemy because love is the enemy

Your sell by date has expired

Your sell by date has expired

Your sell by date has expired

Your sell by date has expired

Our commercial should be faster because we are all just slowguns

Waiting to have our triggers pulled

The commercials need to be faster because we are all just slowguns

Waiting to have our triggers pulled

The commercials should be faster because we are just slowguns

Waiting to have our triggers pulled

The commercials should be faster because we are just slowguns

Waiting to have our triggers pulled

The commercials should be faster because we are just slowguns

Waiting to have our triggers pulled

The commercials should be faster because we are just slowguns

Waiting to have our triggers pulled

The commercials should be faster because we are just slowguns

Waiting to have our triggers pulled

Don't bother trying to save the brainforest

Don't bother trying to save the brainforest

Don't bother trying to save the brainforest

My pain is not ashamed to repeat itself

My pain is not ashamed to repeat itself

My pain is not ashamed to repeat itself

My pain is not ashamed to repeat itself

My pain is not ashamed to repeat itself

The aspiration to save the world is a morbid phenomenon of today's youth

The aspiration to save the world is a morbid phenomenon of today's youth

The aspiration to save the world is a morbid phenomenon of today's youth

It's time someone believes what I say, I've become a lie

Each time someone believes what I say, I become a lie

Each time someone believes what I say, I become a lie

Each time someone believes what I say, I become a lie

We have reached the end of history

The only thing left is cosmetic changes

We have reached the end of history

The only thing that's left is cosmetic changes

   

from the Short-film "Doppelherz" by Marilyn Manson/ da curta-metragem "Doppelherz" dos Marilyn Manson

 

publicado por Ligeia Noire às 15:54

01
Mar 12


I want to fuck you like a foreign film

and there’s no subtitles to get you through this

and I’m a country you don’t ever ever ever ever ever

want to visit again


Line up,

Roll camera,
you pretend
I’ll pretend
And cut, cut, cut

 

I want to kill you like they do in the movies
but don’t worry… there’s another one just like you in line


Line up,

Roll camera,
you pretend
I’ll pretend
And cut, cut, cut


I’m a strip, strip, strip, and

I flicker, flick, flick, flick
a flicker of celluloid
and there’s holes, holes, holes
in my everything


You’re just what I projected

just what I projected
It’s just what I projected
just want to project it


Come in, come in, come in,

Come in, come in, come in, come inside

 

There’s so much, much, much more skin to break
I haven’t even taken off my gloves


I feel a little sorry baby,

I feel a little sorry baby,
I heard the afterlife is poorly scored


You’re lucky you don’t have to wake up


sick, sick, sick, sick

I’m sick of immortality,
I’m sick of immortality
I’m sick of immortality


I was only acting, baby

only acting, baby
You were only acting, baby
overacting, baby

 

Don’t confuse it with love
Don’t confuse it with love
Don’t confuse it with love
Don’t confuse it with love


Every time I kill you I’m really just killing myself

Every time I kill you I’m really just killing myself
Every time I kill you I’m really just killing myself

 

Don’t flatter yourself, don’t flatter yourself


This is business not pleasure, baby

this is business not pleasure, baby
this business of pleasure, baby
business not pleasure, baby
this is business
this is business


I want to kill you like they do in the movies

but don’t worry there’s another one just like you, standing in line


Line up,

Roll camera,
you pretend
I’ll pretend
And cut, cut, cut

 

Marilyn Manson

  

Post Scriptum: As letras geniais são assim, geniais.

publicado por Ligeia Noire às 21:29
etiquetas:

29
Fev 12


Don't ever empty the bucket of mystery.

Never let people define what you do.

It's not about zigging when you should zag.

It's not about doing something unprecedented and unpredictable.

It's just about never being a word, or something that is not in the process of transformation.

   

Marilyn Manson


publicado por Ligeia Noire às 20:22

27
Set 11


6 a.m. Christmas morning 

 

No shadows, 
No reflections here 
Lying cheek to cheek 
In your cold embrace 

So soft and so tragic 
As a slaughterhouse 
You press the knife against your heart 
And say that: 


"I love you, so much you must kill me now." 


I love you 
...so much 
You must kill me now

If I was your vampire 
Certain as the moon 
Instead of killing time 
We'll have each other 
Until the sun

 

If I was your vampire, 
Death waits for no one 
Hold my hands 
Across your face, 
Because I think 
Our time has come 

Digging your smile apart 
With my spade tongue 
The hole is where the heart is 
We built this tomb together, 
And I won't fill it alone. 

 

Beyond the pale 
Everything is black 
No turning back. 

If I was your vampire 
Certain as the moon 
Instead of killing time
We'll have each other 
Until the sun. 

 

If I was your vampire, 
Death waits for no one. 
Hold my hands 
Across your face, 
Because I think 
Our time has come. 

Blood-stained sheets 
In the shape of your heart 

 

This is where it starts... 

 

Blood-stained sheets 
In the shape of your heart

 

This is where it starts 
This is where it will end 

 

Here comes the moon again 

6:19 and I know I'm ready 
Drive me off the mountain

 

You'll burn, 
I'll eat your ashes 


The impossible wheels seducing our corpse. 


If I was your vampire 
Certain as the moon 
Instead of killing time 
We'll have each other

until the sun

 

If I was your vampire, 
Death waits for no one. 
Hold my hands 
Across your face, 
Because I think 
Our time has come... 

Beyond the pale 
Everything is black 
No turning back 

This is where it starts
This is where it will end 

 

Here comes the moon again. 

 

Lyrics by Marilyn Manson/Letra da autoria dos Marilyn Manson

  

Post Scriptum: Este álbum é líndissimo e, esta letra, é uma rosa que dorme quietinha num sepulcro demasiado amado.

publicado por Ligeia Noire às 19:41

01
Jul 11


Ya, ya, ya, eu sei que já são vários anos mas há cenas que continuam a irritar p’ra caralho!

Detesto, mas detesto com todos os cabelos da minha juba, superfícies comerciais com muita luz.

Ele é paredes brancas, luzes claras e, ir às compras, de manhã, ressacada, de óculos escuros ainda torna a cena pior.

Mas, às vezes, a minha preguiça leva a melhor e lá me obriga a esta bela hora do dia, o que aconteceu ontem ou anteontem.

Os auscultadores ajudam bastante, diga-se de passagem.

Bem, mas ia eu dizendo que evito sítios assim e acontece que, há um local a que costumo ir, e que preenche todos os requisitos acima mencionados.

É que dá mesmo vontade de colocar as unhas no balcão e dizer assim com aquele teor vocal à Otep:

-desculpa lá, ó rameira, se te toldei o dia e se tens nojo de me olhar continuadamente por cinco segundos mas as doenças graves não se transmitem pelas órbitas.

É o paradoxo com pernas porque quando cheguei cá fora encontrei um junkie a pedir-me trocos, olha, olha, o roto pró nu, mostrei-lhe o forro dos bolsos e sorri.

Sim: eu+manhã+sol=sorri

Mas tenho de confessar que foi o indigente mais… como dizer…. interessante que alguma vez me interpelou.

Ya e estou consciente de que não contribuo muito para a minha invisibilidade mas em primeiro lugar, quero que se foda.

Em segundo, não estou aqui para agradar a ninguém (é um cliché por algum motivo), não tenho dezoito anos mas o bicho persiste e enquanto persistir… já sabes meu amor.

E, por último, chego à conclusão de que devo ter uma expressão facial de bicho em estado lastimoso porque nem que vá de fato-de-treino... bem, se calhar também pode ser a minha paranóia a borbulhar.

Portanto, eu não vou amenizar quem sou, há que ter tomates para se afirmar aquilo que se é e não é só em contextos amigáveis, é em todos, sabes porquê?

Porque tu não arrancas um braço só porque vais ao sítio X ou porque vai estar lá Y.

Fui muito óbvia?

É que. às vezes, tenho a leve impressão, pelo que vejo, leio, e ouço de que há que enformar o corpo dependendo da ocasião mas acontece que eu não tenho esse tipo de maquinaria, sou pobre e este é o meu momento de adolescente revoltada parte 12345.

É a minha abébia de hoje, faz de conta que tenho 18 anos, apeteceu-me.

E como diz o outro


I won't look prettier if I smile for the picture

Motherfuckers never liked me then and they

Sure won't like me now

Don't try to drag me down with your cliché

Your fake grin fits your faker face

But I find pleasure in your misery

Yeah!


publicado por Ligeia Noire às 01:16

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