sexta-feira, 26 de dezembro de 2008

The last time I saw you, we had just split in two.
You were looking at me I was looking at you.
You had a way so familiar, but I could not recognize
'cause you had blood in your face and I had blood in my eyes.
But I could swear by your expression, that the pain down in your soul was the same as the one down in mine.
That's the pain - that cuts a straight line down through the heart.
We call it love!
So we wrapped our arms around each other, trying to shove ourselves back together.
We were making love. Making love!
It was a cold dark evening such a long time ago when by the might hand of Jove.
It was a sad story how we became lonely two-legged creatures.
It's the story, the origin of love.
That's the origin of love.

My origin of love, B.