Chegar a esta idade, ver e sentir que não foi para "isto" que tanto se lutou na vida, magoa muito.
She’s leaving home.
Wednesday morning at five o’clock as the day begins.
Silently closing her bedroom door.
Leaving the note that she hoped would say more.
She goes downstairs to the kitchen.
Clutching her handkerchief.
Quietly turning the backdoor key.
Stepping outside she is free.
She (We gave her most of our lives).
Is leaving (Sacrificed most of our lives).
Home (We gave her everything money could buy).
She’s leaving home after living alone.
For so many years. Bye, bye.
Father snores as his wife gets into her dressing gown.
Picks up the letter that’s lying there.
Standing alone at the top of the stairs.
She breaks down and cries to her husband
Daddy our baby is gone.
Why would she treat us so thoughtlessly.
How could she do this to me.
She (We never though of ourselves).
Is leaving (Never a thought for ourselves).
Home (We struggled hard all our lives to get by).
She’s leaving home after leaving alone.
For so many years. Bye, bye.
Friday morning at nine o’clock she is far away.
Waiting to keep the appointment she made.
Meeting a man from the motor trade.
She (What did we do that was wrong).
Is having (We didn’t know it was wrong).
Fun (Fun is the one thing that money can’t buy).
Sometimes inside that was always denied.
For so many years. Bye, bye.
She’s leaving home bye, bye.
Beatles (Srgt. Peppers Lonely Hearts Club Band)
2 comentários:
Don't be a pain in the ass...
Não gosto deste poema...lamento.
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