Ontem houve dias assim-assim

quando a preguiça toma os dedos. quando só conseguimos escrever com os indicadores. quando histórias enormes se transformam em piadas muito, muito pequenas.



I was five and he was six
We rode on horses made of sticks
He wore black and I wore white
He would always win the fight

Bang bang, he shot me down
Bang bang, I hit the ground
Bang bang, that awful sound
Bang bang, my baby shot me down.

Seasons came and changed the time
When I grew up, I called him mine
He would always laugh and say
"Remember when we used to play?"

Bang bang, I shot you down
Bang bang, you hit the ground
Bang bang, that awful sound
Bang bang, I used to shoot you down.

Music played, and people sang
Just for me, the church bells rang.

Now he's gone, I don't know why
And till this day, sometimes I cry
He didn't even say goodbye
He didn't take the time to lie.

Bang bang, he shot me down
Bang bang, I hit the ground
Bang bang, that awful sound
Bang bang, my baby shot me down...

da canção Bang Bang (My Babby Shot Me Down), Nancy Sinatra




decididamente não há mais espaço neste elevador. Terceiro andar por favor.





Musique rythmique
Son electronique
L'art politique
A l'age atomique

Electric Cafe

Culture physique
Cuisine dietetique
L'art dynamique
A l'age atomique

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Musica electronica
Figura ritmica
Arte politica
De la era atomica

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Images synthetique
Forme estetique
L'art poetique
A l'age atomique

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Musique rythmique
Son electronique
L'art politique

Electric Cafe, Kraftwerk

I was sightseeing with a small group of partizans who were looking for places to blow.
All of a sudden one says: Hey! I really like that spot. Let's make it go up in pieces.
After a few minutes of vivid conversation they all agreed. We made camp and prepared things for next morning.