"You can't manufacture a miracle
The silence was pitiful - that day
And love is getting too cynical
Passion's just physical - these days
You analyse everyone you meet
But get no sign - the loving kind
Every night you admit defeat
And cry yourself blind
If you can't wake up in the morning
'Cause your bed lies vacant at night
If you're lost, hurt, tired or lonely
Can't control it - try as you might
May you find that love that won't leave you
May you find it by the end of the day
You won't be lost, hurt, tired and lonely
Something beautiful will come your way
The DJ said on the radio
Life should be stereo - each day
And the past that cast the unsuitable
Instead of some kind of beautiful
You just couldn't wait
All your friends think you're satisfied
But they can't see your soul, no, no, no
Forgot the time feeling petrified
When they lived alone
If you can't wake up in the morning
'Cause your bed lies vacant at night
If you're lost, hurt, tired or lonely
Can't control it - try as you might
May you find that love that won't leave you
May you find it by the end of the day
You won't be lost, hurt, tired and lonely
Something beautiful will come your way
(It'll come your way) Some kind of beautiful
(It'll come your way) Some kind of beautiful
(It'll come your way) Some kind of beautiful
(It'll come your way)
All your friends think you're satisfied
But they can't see your soul, no, no, no
Forgot the time feeling petrified
When they lived alone
If you can't wake up in the morning
'Cause your bed lies vacant at night
If you're lost, hurt, tired or lonely
Can't control it - try as you might
May you find that love that won't leave you
May you find it by the end of the day
You won't be lost, hurt, tired and lonely
Something beautiful will come your way
You won't be lost, hurt, tired and lonely
Something beautiful will come your way"
A Carla comprou uma mala da Pucca. Ora, dizem vocês o seguinte: "o que fizeste tu Carla Sofia! Tu que nem ligavas a essas coisas! Tu que nem gostavas da boneca! Tu que cada vez que alguém passava com uma coisa dessas dizias que *%$#"#"&%& e que %#"(%$"&! Só podes estar louca!"Ao qual eu respondo: Hipnose. Passeava eu alegremente quando me deparo, assim sem mais nem menos, com uma figurinha, 1m70, cabelo espetado, olhos em bico... bom, eis que a tal personagem se me atravessa à frente e começa como que se me a fitar! Os meus olhos ficam pesados... cada vez mais pesados... a minha cabeça tem um só pensamento: "compra a puta da mala, compra a puta da mala..." e eu comprei.
Agora no conforto do lar, dizia eu que o poder do homem era sol de pouca dura... erro meu! Tão profundo que ponho a hipotese de a usar ao ombro. Portanto, agradeço que acabem com certas e determinadas coisas! É que isto é um perigo para a sociedade! Tou a pensar, claro, no futuro dos nossos jovens...
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