Um Voo Cego A Nada...

" Ter-se nascido ou vivido em Moçambique é uma doenca incurável, uma virose latente. Mesmo para os que se sentem genuínamente portugueses mascara-se a doenca, ignora-se, ou recalca-se e acreditamo-nos curados e imunizados. A mínima exposição a determinadas circunstâncias desencadeia, porém, inevitáveis recorrências e acabamos por arder na altíssima febre de uma recidiva sem regresso nem apelo". Rui Knopfli

terça-feira, 26 de janeiro de 2010

Where Do The Children Play ?


Cat Stevens


Well I think it's fine, building jumbo planes.
Or taking a ride on a cosmic train.
Switch on summer from a slot machine.
Get what you want to if you want, 'cause you can get anything.

I know we've come a long way,
We're changing day to day,
But tell me, where do the children play?

Well you roll on roads over fresh green grass.
For your lorryloads pumping petrol gas.
And you make them long, and you make them tough.
But they just go on and on, and it seems you can't get off.

Oh, I know we've come a long way,
We're changing day to day,
But tell me, where do the children play?

When you crack the sky, scrapers fill the air.
Will you keep on building higher
'til there's no more room up there?
Will you make us laugh, will you make us cry?
Will you tell us when to live, will you tell us when to die?

I know we've come a long way,
We're changing day to day,
But tell me, where do the children play?

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