S.O.S.

Um guilty pleasure?
Um ponto final? Mais um? Uma virgula? Um ponto e virgula?
A vida regida pela gramática. Na ponta de um lápis de carvão que se esborrata ao sabor de uma lágrima teimosa. E tudo recomeça depois de um ponto final e parágrafo. Com travessão. Há uma palavra a dizer.
E as palavras começam a escorregar pela ponta do tal lápis de carvão... e rodopiam no sentido da mão. E descem incontroláveis, ao ritmo de um único sentimento... a honestidade que rege.
Apagar? Apagar para recomeçar? Onde está a minha borracha? Tinha tantas... vindas de Espanha... ineficazes.
Uma luta, mais uma?... num recomeço, de muitos recomeços.
Um S.O.S.?

"Where are those happy days, they seem so hard to find
I try to reach for you but you have closed your mind
What ever happened to our love?
I wish I understood
It used to feel so nice, it used to be so good
So when you're near me, darling can't you hear me S.O.S.
The love you gave me, nothing else can save me S.O.S.
When you're gone, how can I even try to go on?
When you're gone, well I try, how can I carry on?
You seem so far away but you are standing nearer
You make me feel alive but something died I fear
I really tried to make it out
I wish I understood
What happened to our love, it used to be so good
So when you're near me, darling can't you hear me S.O.S.
The love you gave me, nothing else can save me S.O.S.
When you're gone, how can I even try to go on?
When you're gone, ooh I try, how can I carry on?
So when you're near me, darling can't you hear me S.O.S.
The love you gave me, nothing else can save me S.O.S.
When you're gone, how can I even try to go on?
When you're gone, ooh I try, how can I carry on?
When you're gone, how can I even try to go on?When you're gone, ooh I try, how can I carry on?"
(S.O.S., ABBA)