My Baby Bird 4
July 15, 2007
Bird :
Lady?
Lady :
Yes Bird?
Bird :
It’s cold
Lady :
I know
Lady :
Bird…
I cannot see a thing
Bird :
It’s all in your mind
Lady :
I’m worried
Bird :
No one will come to see us
Lady :
Maybe they come but we just don’t see them
What do you see?
Bird :
I see what’s outside
Lady :
And what exactly is outside?
Bird :
It’s grown-ups
Lady :
Well maybe if we scream they can hear us
Bird :
Yeah, maybe we should try to scream
Lady :
Ok, Bird
Lady & Bird :
Heeeelp, Heeeelp
Can you hear us now ?
Hello !
Help !
Hello it’s me
Hey
Can you see
Can you see me
I’m here
Nana come and take us
Hello
Are you there
Hello
Lady :
I don’t think they can hear us
Bird :
I can hear you lady
Bird :
Do you want to come with me lady
Lady :
Will you be nice to me Bird
Lady :
You’re always be nice to me because you’re my friend
Bird :
I try but sometimes I make mistakes
Lady :
Nana says we all make mistakes
Bird :
Maybe we should scream more
Lady :
Yes, Bird let’s scream more
Lady & Bird :
Help ! Help us ! Come on ! Help
Hello !
Help
Hello !
We’re lost
Lady :
I don’t think they cannot see us
Bird :
Nobody likes us
Lady :
But they all seem so big
Bird :
Maybe we should just jump
Lady :
What if we fall from the bridge and then nobody can catch us
Bird :
I don’t know let’s just see what happens
Lady :
Okay
Bird :
Come with me
Lady :
Shall we do it together
Bird :
Yeah
Lady & Bird :
1 2 3….Aaaaaaah
Bird :
Lady?
Lady :
Yes Bird
Bird :
It’s cold
Lady :
I know
Lady :
Bird…I cannot see a thing
Bird :
It’s all in your mind
Lady Bird
Meu grave passaro, se algum dia
nos olharem, paremos de respirar,
e é só se nos lembrarem
que a fantasmas passaremos
como eles, que mais não vemos.
Meu grave passaro, se dia algum
te tocarem, deixa tu de sentir
pois para bem nos manejarem
basta fazer existir.
Passaro, passaro meu, voa
vê tu o que o mundo povoa,
homens injectados,
de braços cansados,
com a esperança falsa,
de uma mais valsa.
Contemplai e vossos hinos cantai
na sombra da valsa da morte
a merda do mundo é varrida
eles chamam-lhe sorte
e toda a astucia é vencida.
Vem, abandona agora esse antro de sida
volta para mim, e acutilantes, fiquemos sem vida.
Não nos toquemos de noite, não nos saudemos no dia,
fitemos o branco, que não nos traia a apatia.
