Club of the Laid-off
- Habits of breaking habits.
It's tough to find a job, But it's tougher t o grind your mind after being robbed .
- ...but don't up.
Intensify my ass in the morning What will a broken lamp do? Wait there all day long...
- Coming out of youth, going into social labyrinth.
Once in a while, Small plates grew larger, Big hearts grew smaller, One is cost, One is lost, Nebulizing in transit, Paralyzing in traffic, Days are getting shorter, weeks are getting longer. We were so close, yet never have we met as lovers.
- Live up to your face.
A man is looking at a clock, And finds his own arm spin like a rock. It is ten till twelve, With no indication whether Midnight is about to knock. And he takes the arm out of the clock, Puts it where he could log, And swings up to the block. Oooh, the door is not locked, And nobody is going to mock, As he is about to test the stock.
- Free for rent, but take your belongings.
The morning smells like raw fish, On the tip of your tongue. The taste lingers like raw flesh, Scintillating your lips. And That soft ground, gentle grass, soothing soil, All be ravished underneath.
- What is it that bothers you?
Leeeeeetters, e staaaaands foooooor a looooooot, Theeeeee moooooooonkeeeeeey issssss noooooot loooooooking. Buuuuuuuuut noooooboooooody shooooouuuuuld doooooooo Juuuuuuuust thaaaaaaaaaaaat, Thaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat? Yeeeeeeeeees, eeeexaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaactly Thaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat. Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeell, theen, Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaake iiiiiiiiiiit sooooooooo looooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooong?
Labor on the Douro River
(Douro, Faina Fluvial)
Manoel de Oliveira
- Silhouette of sweat and joy.
Seen From your blind eye A beam of light From the back of that retina Faded into colors Black and White Grey and Blue Suddenly shades of small cracks climb through that open lid Sand eye full of blood Being swallowed everyday Until you dry your mind like your blind
- The alley of a reality written.
The street moves toward the centre, M walks from his own shoes, Never sees the lamp flickering, Enters the door, Half-locked For strangers during this hour. An old woman answers the door, M walks in with his boots clicking, Just over the frame of the door, Soaked with black water. M knows this is the night.
- Rhythm and Blacks.
The top never stops, Bouncing from within A tap unseen, Oh but, That seems, No form Is Given Whoever takes the dance, Shall lead.
The Old Man and the Sea
- The persistence of consciousness.
Vast the sea moves along the coast where to? Man with his trampled legs drowning in his own sweat alone. Up the clouds move faster than he could spot his home. A sudden tilt in the wave Too late to bemoan.