quinta-feira, 1 de agosto de 2024

,,




She looking at him like a green dew day 
He looking at her like a sunny yellow day 
The flowers the music of the birds 
Wild bees flying 
Wild butterflies flying 
The angels are singing a love song 
The music was in the tone of their voice
He was dreaming 
She was dreaming 
They were thinking the same thing 
They were thinking the same thing 
happiness is a great illusion, it is impossible for us to be happy here 
But neither one nor the other dared to talk about it. 
in those last times dewy
The flowers were shining like the sun 
In those last dewy times 
The flowers were shining like the sun 
My dreams were written 
In all the characteristics of the flowers 
Every moment of dreams, every moment of meekness





She looking at him like a green dew day 
He looking at her like a sunny yellow day 
The flowers the music of the birds 
Wild bees flying 
Wild butterflies flying 
The angels are singing a love song 
The music was in the tone of their voice
He was dreaming 
She was dreaming 
They were thinking the same thing 
They were thinking the same thing 
happiness is a great illusion, it is impossible for us to be happy here 
But neither one nor the other dared to talk about it. 
in those last times dewy
The flowers were shining like the sun 
In those last dewy times 
The flowers were shining like the sun 
My dreams were written 
In all the characteristics of the flowers 
Every moment of dreams, every moment of meekness






Ela olhando para ele como um dia de orvalho verde 
Ele olhando para ela como um dia ensolarado e amarelo 
As flores a música dos pássaros 
Abelhas selvagens voando 
Borboletas selvagens voando 
Os anjos estão cantando uma canção de amor 
A música estava no tom de sua voz
Ele estava sonhando 
Ela estava sonhando 
Eles estavam pensando a mesma coisa 
Eles estavam pensando a mesma coisa 
a felicidade é uma grande ilusão, é impossível sermos felizes aqui 
Mas nem um nem outro se atreveu a falar sobre isso. 
naqueles últimos tempos orvalhados
As flores brilhavam como o sol 
Naqueles últimos tempos orvalhados 
As flores brilhavam como o sol 
Meus sonhos foram escritos 
Em todas as características das flores 
Cada momento de sonho, cada momento de mansidão






She looking at him like a green dew day 
He looking at her like a sunny yellow day 
The flowers the music of the birds 
Wild bees flying 
Wild butterflies flying 
The angels are singing a love song 
The music was in the tone of their voice
He was dreaming 
She was dreaming 
They were thinking the same thing 
They were thinking the same thing 
happiness is a great illusion, it is impossible for us to be happy here 
But neither one nor the other dared to talk about it. 
in those last times dewy
The flowers were shining like the sun 
In those last dewy times 
The flowers were shining like the sun 
My dreams were written 
In all the characteristics of the flowers 
Every moment of dreams, every moment of meekness





She looking at him like a green dew day 
He looking at her like a sunny yellow day 
The flowers the music of the birds 
Wild bees flying 
Wild butterflies flying 
The angels are singing a love song 
The music was in the tone of their voice
He was dreaming 
She was dreaming 
They were thinking the same thing 
They were thinking the same thing 
happiness is a great illusion, it is impossible for us to be happy here 
But neither one nor the other dared to talk about it. 
in those last times dewy
The flowers were shining like the sun 
In those last dewy times 
The flowers were shining like the sun 
My dreams were written 
In all the characteristics of the flowers 
Every moment of dreams, every moment of meekness






Ela olhando para ele como um dia de orvalho verde 
Ele olhando para ela como um dia ensolarado e amarelo 
As flores a música dos pássaros 
Abelhas selvagens voando 
Borboletas selvagens voando 
Os anjos estão cantando uma canção de amor 
A música estava no tom de sua voz
Ele estava sonhando 
Ela estava sonhando 
Eles estavam pensando a mesma coisa 
Eles estavam pensando a mesma coisa 
a felicidade é uma grande ilusão, é impossível sermos felizes aqui 
Mas nem um nem outro se atreveu a falar sobre isso. 
naqueles últimos tempos orvalhados
As flores brilhavam como o sol 
Naqueles últimos tempos orvalhados 
As flores brilhavam como o sol 
Meus sonhos foram escritos 
Em todas as características das flores 
Cada momento de sonho, cada momento de mansidão







She looking at him like a green dew day 
He looking at her like a sunny yellow day 
The flowers the music of the birds 
Wild bees flying 
Wild butterflies flying 
The angels are singing a love song 
The music was in the tone of their voice
He was dreaming 
She was dreaming 
They were thinking the same thing 
They were thinking the same thing 
happiness is a great illusion, it is impossible for us to be happy here 
But neither one nor the other dared to talk about it. 
in those last times dewy
The flowers were shining like the sun 
In those last dewy times 
The flowers were shining like the sun 
My dreams were written 
In all the characteristics of the flowers 
Every moment of dreams, every moment of meekness





She looking at him like a green dew day 
He looking at her like a sunny yellow day 
The flowers the music of the birds 
Wild bees flying 
Wild butterflies flying 
The angels are singing a love song 
The music was in the tone of their voice
He was dreaming 
She was dreaming 
They were thinking the same thing 
They were thinking the same thing 
happiness is a great illusion, it is impossible for us to be happy here 
But neither one nor the other dared to talk about it. 
in those last times dewy
The flowers were shining like the sun 
In those last dewy times 
The flowers were shining like the sun 
My dreams were written 
In all the characteristics of the flowers 
Every moment of dreams, every moment of meekness






Ela olhando para ele como um dia de orvalho verde 
Ele olhando para ela como um dia ensolarado e amarelo 
As flores a música dos pássaros 
Abelhas selvagens voando 
Borboletas selvagens voando 
Os anjos estão cantando uma canção de amor 
A música estava no tom de sua voz
Ele estava sonhando 
Ela estava sonhando 
Eles estavam pensando a mesma coisa 
Eles estavam pensando a mesma coisa 
a felicidade é uma grande ilusão, é impossível sermos felizes aqui 
Mas nem um nem outro se atreveu a falar sobre isso. 
naqueles últimos tempos orvalhados
As flores brilhavam como o sol 
Naqueles últimos tempos orvalhados 
As flores brilhavam como o sol 
Meus sonhos foram escritos 
Em todas as características das flores 
Cada momento de sonho, cada momento de mansidão

,,




Nenhum comentário:

Postar um comentário