pretty story

I could tell you a pretty story
without pain or misery
like a fairytale
sweet like candy
betrayer like sugar
that puts you high
just to fall like the rain from the sky
Why we must always hide
the angry, the pain, the moment of clarity
that overcome the futility
live without illusion
sober people aren’t real
pain is real, something that you can feel
don’t get me wrong, the feeling isn’t guilty
our illussions, desilluions
send us to a dreamscape,
making us forgetting
that dreamscape are just quicksand
end of story



A sense of total disillusion
neglected by the sweet taste
of passion, love and depression
a dark corner look like a mansion
any place looks so much better
without the sense of waste
taste, waste, haste
to find a space
without the pressure in the chest
only with pleasure
can you show me the path?

Zombie Inc.

Like a worm hunting a warm place
to keep the unique thing that have sense
the will of living, the need of breathing
you just keep searching
the perfect match, the (sick word) “crush”
sad to say, or glad to not be part of this
I must say “keep going”
what could be more important
than find heat to warm your cold chest
a hug to protect you from the evil nest
that are this real deadly world
gone, sold, gold, poled
stuck in a river
made by your own tears
so let’s toast for this, cheers
like a worm that need live
you choose to be
just another pathetic zombie
without meaning, just hunting bodies in a touch screen


Sad boy, silly boy
old story
same characters
so seat, enjoy
you just need shout
and everybody will look out
even if you don’t have nothing special
you know how to sell this shit all
a yellow smile
a fake hug for awhile
you conquer the trust
and give a damn about the lust
make the others dreams became dust
sad boy, silly boy
think that can be a man
just becase you think?
believe me, isn’t so easy
but, it’s your decision still be silly


Nostalgia still alive
I still remember the smell
of the dirty cup, the warm wine
many laughs, no need of wondering why
just another short night
many poems, many rhymes
yes, we try
many bands, many screams and cryes
cheap drugs and a lot of cigarettes
who need deep breath when hits thirtys?
suicide letters already written, waiting to be readen
when I hit twenty five I felt like a waste of time
but the flow still keeping me forward
and sound sad to say
but nostalgia is all that I have
from a good moment from my life


When the honest save their own honorable souls
after to judge us all
guilty, for sure
we don’t hold their hands, we just stole
their rule of this world
with a simple cold screen, with just a few touchs
we create a sinthectic God
how many we wanted, furled
unholy, but pretty, ready to be loved
we gave our souls to a endless black hole
the honorable souls are ready to take the control
of this dead real world?

Some Rhymes About Nothing Special

I can’t guarantee
but I can tell to you
what happened to me
promises that don’t last
contemporary promises have a different meaning from the past
words now are so light
that even the most soft wind can
blow a million words away, so fright
I could but I don’t want start another fight
but the truth is that friendship are so shallow
that you can put all your friends in a closet
and it’s won’t look so narrow
like my old aunt always said
“your true friends are your teeth
but even them bite you”
hard to believe, hard to swallow
but the truth is
that aren’t a pack of wolfs
only a old one
the one that you see in the mirror
every morning
every night
the only one that never will leave you behind