Passaranfíbia

A terra é firme, mas nela o sol queima a pele, o solo esquenta e queima os pés.
Na água é fresco e tudo flui, mas não dá pra respirar.
E no céu? Lá é mais leve, mas tem que saber voar.
Deixo então o destino escolher qual fio vai puxar.

From inside

In this world where everybody is playing the game of showing of, sometimes I want to be invisible.
To sing out loud, to dance my way, to be myself for a while, whithout being criticized.
I whish I could make a law requiring people to use their souls from outside, as if they were clothes.

My coats do not heat me up more, they are short.
Suddenly my room is too small to me.
I think I became bigger than me.