I was staring at the sky, just looking for a star
To pray on, or wish on, or something like that
I was having a sweet fix of a daydream of a boy
Whose reality I knew, was a hopeless to be had
But then the dove of hope began its downward slope
And I believed for a moment that my chances
Were approaching to be grabbed
But as it came down near, so did a weary tear
-I thought it was a bird, but it was just a paper bag
-Hunger hurts, and I want him so bad, oh it kills
Cuz I know I’m a mess he don’t wanna clean up
I got to fold cuz these hands are too shaky to hold
-Hunger hurts, but starving works, when it costs too much to love
And I went crazy again today, looking for a strand to climb
Looking for a little hope
Baby said he couldn’t stay, wouldn’t put his lips to mine,
And a fail to kiss is a fail to cope
I said, ‘Honey, I don’t feel so good, don’t feel justified
Come on put a little love here in my void,’ - he said
‘It’s all in your head,’ and I said, ‘So’s everything’ -
But he didn’t get it - I thought he was a man
But he was just a little boy
-Hunger hurts, and I want him so bad, oh it kills
Cuz I know I’m a mess he don’t wanna clean up
I got to fold cuz these hands are too shaky to hold
-Hunger hurts, but starving works, when it costs too much to love
-Hunger hurts, and I want him so bad, oh it kills
Cuz I know I’m a mess he don’t wanna clean up
I got to fold cuz these hands are too shaky to hold
-Hunger hurts, but starving works, when it costs too much to love

Às vezes, as músicas soam mais-que-perfeitas.
Bem mais. E preenchem hermeticamente as situações - do pretérito ou do presente.

Um dia, quem sabe, eu componha coisas assim: que tocam as pessoas. Têm vida prórpria.