Fucking Life

These nights are just too intense
Between band t-shirts and Fucking Life t-shirts
Where I crucified myself
I found myself out of luck once again

I don't talk to anyone to pretend I don't see you
I mentally plan how to reach you
It would be easier if your friends
If they weren't meant to carry a coffin

After a while, I realized it
That night I don't talk to anyone
But I told Breno that I
I hope you'll look at me

To read my shyness in my bones
And in a moment of lucidity
Come and talk
Until I don't know

Until my hand starts to sweat
And my mind begins to lament
At night we are nobody's children
To hell with all the stories about our exes!

So that, finally
We might drown
Our dreams in plastic cups
And in two liters of passion fruit flavor

Until the Sun shines on our door
We are children, and we are still immune from punishment for our mistakes
Unpunished for making mistakes