Body & Soul (2) / Nas garras do escorpião (5)

"Now and then I think of when we were together

Like when you said you felt so happy you could die

Told myself that you were right for me

But felt so lonely in your company

But that was love and it's an ache I still remember

You can get addicted to a certain kind of sadness

Like resignation to the end, always the end

So, when we found that we could not make sense

Well, you said that we would still be friends

But I'll admit that I was glad that it was over

But you didn't have to cut me off

Make out like it never happened and that we were nothing

And I don't even need your love

But you treat me like a stranger and that feels so rough

No, you didn't have to stoop so low

Have your friends collect your records and then change your number

I guess that I don't need, that though

Now you're just somebody that I used to know

Now you're just somebody that I used to know

Now you're just somebody that I used to know

Now and then I think of all the times you screwed me over

But had me believing it was always something that I'd done

But I don't wanna live that way, reading into every word you say

You said that you could let it go

And I wouldn't catch you hung up on somebody that you used to know

But you didn't have to cut me off

Make out like it never happened and that we were nothing

And I don't even need your love

But you treat me like a stranger and that feels so rough

No, you didn't have to stoop so low

Have your friends collect your records and then change your number

I guess that I don't need, that though

Now you're just somebody that I used to know

Somebody, I used to know

Somebody, now you're just somebody that I used to know

Somebody, I used to know

Somebody, now you're just somebody that I used to know

I used to know

That I used to know

I used to know

Somebody"

Sub-versão (2)

"É a menina de rua que se vende por comida, é o feto abortado sem direito a vida, o molequinho que varre tudo com o nariz escorrendo, trabalhador nordestino que se sente morrendo. Também é o aidético em fase terminal, a prostituta da esquina de que lhes falam mal! Tal qual Judas com certeza eles sempre traem! Pobres infelizes mataram o próprio pai... Deus é o cego, o surdo, o louco e o retardado, a estuprada mãe solteira e o aleijado... A empregada doméstica, o idoso, o lixeiro, Deus é tudo e todos... O tempo inteiro!"

13 (5) / Pentagrama (3)

Hoje, no dia do azar e do economista, segunda 13 do mês do desgosto, é a hora ideal de se fechar em um pentagrama desenhando com o próprio sangue e meditar por 5 horas sem sequer abrir os olhos. "O que está dentro não sai e o que está fora não entra..." Essa é sua esperança, que mesmo tarde felizmente morre como quase tudo.

Engasgue e morra! Cai e sangra maldita...