Twisted Mess

The first kiss you planted to my face.

The second twist tonight, a fate.

And somehow the taste of fear

took up all the space in here.


Whenever I fake, (more or less)

whoever I take, (more or less)

however it breaks, (more or less)

someone's gonna fall.

I sense a grain of stress (more or less)

hurting you more or less. (more or less)

I pick up this twisted mess. (more or less)


Take me, shake me, knock me with

a million ways that we relate.

We both come to suffocate

to make it through the night today. (more or less)

Count the days strategically (more or less)

creeping to believe in me. (more or less)

Who to blame and who will be, (more or less)

make it through an irony. (more or less)


Am I up or am I blue?

Take up all the space in here

as we try to hide our fear.

When we try to save ourselves...


Whenever I fake, (more or less)

whoever I take, (more or less)

however it breaks, (more or less)

someone's gonna fall.

I sense a grain of stress (more or less)

hurting you more or less. (more or less)

I pick up this twisted mess. (more or less)




(Pintura: "Cidade III", Carlo Tozzi, 1984)