sexta-feira, 13 de abril de 2007

Páscoa e roupa nova!

É claro que já não tenho a idade da maior parte dos que poderão ler este comentário.... Eu ainda sou do tempo em que se estreava roupa nova no Domingo de Páscoa para receber e beijar o Senhor! bons tempos, meus caros! Agora, não são raras as vezes em que recebo o Senhor toda descabelada e ressacada da noitada anterior! É que com o passar dos anos os papás deixaram de me comprar roupa nova e eu passei a ganhar eurinhos para estourar nos copos! ....e perguntarão vocês... e porque é que em vez de copos não compras roupa??? é simples: Vocês sabem quantas vezes se pode ir pros copos com o dinheiro de umas levi`s originais???????????? Pensem nisso!
Publicada por à(s)

Sem comentários:

Enviar um comentário

Subscrever: Enviar feedback (Atom)

Where The Wild Roses Grow

They call me The Wild Rose but my name was Elisa Day
Why they call me it I do not know
For my name was Elisa Day
From the first day I saw her I knew she was the one
As she stared in my eyes and smiled
For her lips were the colour of the roses
That grew down the river, all bloody and wild
When he knocked on my door and entered the room
My trembling subsided in his sure embrace
He would be my first man, and with a careful hand
He wiped at the tears that ran down my face
On the second day I brought her a flower
She was more beautiful than any woman I'd seen
I said, "Do you know where the wild roses grow
So sweet and scarlet and free?"
On the second day he came with a single red rose
Said: "Will you give me your loss and your sorrow?
"I nodded my head, as I lay on the bed
He said, "If I show you the roses will you follow?"
On the third day he took me to the river
He showed me the roses and we kissed
And the last thing I heard was a muttered word
As he stood smiling above me with a rock in his fist
On the last day I took her where the wild roses grow
And she lay on the bank, the wind light as a thief
As I kissed her goodbye, I said, "All beauty must die
And let down and planted a rose between her teeth