em modo iutúbaro*

poucas horas de sono misturadas com 4 horas de trabalho que esperam por mim, implacáveis, espalhadas pelo quarto resultam nisto:

movin to the country gonna eat a lot of peaches
im movin to the country im gonna eat me a lot of peaches
im movin to the country im gonna eat a lot of peaches
movin to the country im gonna eat a lot of peaches
peaches come from a can they were put there by a man
in a factory downtown
if i had my little way id eat peaches everyday
sun soakin bulges in the shade chegam-me estas coisas assim de repente à cabeça abraçadas a cálculos de reflexões e refracções e difracções e outras merdas que as ondas fazem e que vou ter de ensinar amanhã

movin to the country im gonna eat a lot of peaches
movin to the country im gonna eat a lot of peaches
im movin to the country gonna eat a lot of peaches
movin to the country gonna eat a lot of peaches

i took a little nap where the roots all twist
squished a rotten peach in my fist
and dreamed about you woman
i poked my finger down inside makin a little room for a ant to hide
natures candy in my hand or can or a pie

millions of peaches peaches for me
millions of peaches peaches for free
millions of peaches peaches for me
millions of peaches peaches for free

look out

millions of peaches peaches for me
millions of peaches peaches for free
millions of peaches peaches for me
millions of peaches peaches for free

look out

presidents of the usa

ah!, já agora mais uma para recordar

* palavra lindíssima roubada à descarada ao menino da cerveja.