KEYS FALSE
The keys that deliveries me; always false
A safe where nothing would be seen.
The rancid brand all fantasy
And this drawing pains pants
The troubles in another instant, empty barges
The sea in this storm, an agony
Or how much I would have nothing more
On a day with love, dreams waltzes;
And now this disdain dominates the scene
And fortune condemns me no questions
Generating loneliness after that,
And step into the vacant turns
And take this vile and satanic form
And to see her, which mirror, I wonder anyway.
MARCOS LOURES
The keys that deliveries me; always false
A safe where nothing would be seen.
The rancid brand all fantasy
And this drawing pains pants
The troubles in another instant, empty barges
The sea in this storm, an agony
Or how much I would have nothing more
On a day with love, dreams waltzes;
And now this disdain dominates the scene
And fortune condemns me no questions
Generating loneliness after that,
And step into the vacant turns
And take this vile and satanic form
And to see her, which mirror, I wonder anyway.
MARCOS LOURES
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