quinta-feira, 26 de agosto de 2010

Every day a little death,
In the parlor, in the bed,
In the curtains, in the silver,
In the buttons, in the bread.
Every day a little sting
In the heart and in the head.
Every move and every breath,
And you hardly feel a thing,
Brings a perfect little death.
Every Day a Little Death
by Stephen Sondheim

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