A oeste nada de novo...

Broken bicycles, old busted chains, rusted handle bars out in the rain. Somebody must have an orphanage for these things that nobody wants any more: September's reminding July, it's time to be saying... good-bye.
Summer is gone, but our love will remain. Like old broken bicycles left out in the rain.
Broken Bicycles, don't tell my folks; there's all those playing cards pinned to the spokes, laid down like skeletons out on the lawn.
One wheel won't turn while the other has gone.
The seasons can turn on a dime, somehow I forget every time;

These things you've given me, they will always stay.
They're broken... but I'll never throw them away.

tw



Estás parecido comigo amigo, "coma 3" que mistérios contemplas na tua alma?
Quando os vais partilhar connosco? Ou será que vais querer que vamos ter contigo lá, onde sorris para nós...

Realmente, todos os sorrisos são bonitos e mais ainda aqueles que nos fazem falta.