You are a drug to me I never ever thought it otherwise And I love the lies you've told to me While looking me directly in my eyes
This is not ecstasy, but it's better than cocaine and you know that I will miss you when you're gone but I'm not equipped to play this game
You know your words They don't mean anything to me They only serve to fatten up the prey And when it's time to take them to the slaughterhouse you slice their throats, continue on your way
This is not jeopardy and it's not your high school prom and you know that I will miss you when you're gone But I'm not equipped to be your mom
You are a drug to me I never ever thought it otherwise And I love the lies you've told to me while looking me directly in my eyes
Every morning I switch on my electric razor to trim my beard into respectable proportions.
The face in the mirror has grown stranger over the years and I have refused it permission to use my name.
I tried very hard not to see what happened behind the mirror. Nobody likes to be reminded of the shortness of life. But the flaking mercury made the mirror a window into the chasm.
But also something else happening. Because they are looking at Sebastião, and they are looking at the camera, and they know that they are looking at the world.
So they address a question: what are you? You, out there in the world? Or, is there anything else out there?
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It is not pleasant to die, lord, if nothing is left in life. And in death nothing is possible, except on the bases of what is left in life.
It is not pleasant to die, lord, if nothing is left in life. And in death nothing is possible, except on the bases of what one could have left in life.
