Saturday, October 29, 2005

rainha spektor

ode to divorce

The food that I’m eating, is suddenly tasteless. I know I’m alone now, I know what it tastes like.
So break me to small parts. Let go in small doses, but spare some for spare parts, there might be some good ones. Like you might make a dollar.
I’m inside your mouth now, behind your tonsils, peeking over your molars.
You’re talking to her now, and you’ve eaten something minty, and you’re making that face that I like, and you’re going in, in for the kill, kill. For the killer kiss, kiss for the kiss, kiss.
I need your money, it’ll help me, I need your car and I need your love.
So won’t you help a brother out?
Won’t you help a brother out?
Won’t you help a brother out, out, out, out, out?

in soviet kitsch de regina spektor

5 comments:

joana said...

oh really, rod? that is so cool, because i'm really interested in psychic reading. i think i lost my loved one and i have no idea where to find it/him/her(?)
i'd appreciate your help for i don't know what to do.

joana said...

hey rod, do you like regina spektor?

joão martinho said...

joana, não precisas de pedir ajuda ao rod, eu tou aqui, pá!

plim said...

grande joana :)

Anonymous said...

eu nao tenho muito dinheiro mas já te disse que é na boa comeres as minhas bolachas.