Open your eyes - Alter Bridge

Looking back I clearly see
What it is that's killing me
Through the eyes of one I know
I see a vision once let go
I had it all

Constantly it burdens me
Hard to trust and can't believe
Lost the faith and lost the love
When the day is done

Will they open their eyes
And realize we are one
On and on we stand alone
Until our day has come
When they open their eyes
And realize we are one

I love the way I feel today
But how I know the sun will fade
Darker days seem to be
What will always live in me
But still I run

It's hard to walk this path alone
Hard to know which way to go
Will I ever save this day
Will it ever change

Will they open their eyes
And realize we are one
Still today we carry on
I know our day will come
When they open their eyes
And realize we are one

Will they open their eyes
And realize we are one
(its hard to walk this path alone
hard to know which way to go)
Will they open their eyes
and realize we are one
(lost the faith and lost the love when the day is done)

Will they open their eyes
And realize we are one

Sheeeeeee

I can't imagine the timing, of this song... It always visits me when i just need it... When I feel too down or lonely... And just as I hear it i start feeling this weird feeling that i belong to 1970s or something, that i once met Michael Corleone... That I watched davinci paint... That I listened to a piano only 1 meter far from it for once... That I slept in a garden already and felt more secure than any other time.. That i travelled all over the world, the old world... That i've been to all times, visited every single age and saw every celebrity to whom i owe a "Thanx for making my days taste so beautifully"
She
May be the face I can't forget
The trace of pleasure or regret
May be my treasure or the price I have to pay
She
May be the song that summer sings
May be the chill that autumn brings
May be a hundred different things
Within the measure of a day

She
May be the beauty or the beast
May be the famine or the feast
May turn each day into a heaven or a hell
She may be the mirror of my dreams
The smile reflected in a stream
She may not be what she may seem
Inside her shell

She
Who always seems so happy in a crowd
Whose eyes can be so private and so proud
No one's allowed to see them when they cry
She
May be the love that cannot hope to last
May come to me from shadows of the past
That I'll remember till the day I die

She
May be the reason I survive
The why and wherefore I'm alive
The one I'll care for through the rough in ready years
Me
I'll take her laughter and her tears
And make them all my souvenirs
For where she goes I've got to be
The meaning of my life is

She
She, oh she

ELVIS COSTELLO :D

Telegrama

One of the best things in traveling is meeting people specialy if these people you live with and see them everyday you learn from there culture and the most special things are cooking and music and dancing coz these things in each nation have it's special things in it . And since these days I'm living with alot of latin people from colombia and brazil and one night we had a party at the house and a brazilian guy played this song on the guitar and I feel in it from the first time Although I don't understand portigues but the music makes you feel the words so i thought of sharing it with everyone back at home and this is the best way to share it. The song name is telegrama and the name of the singer is Zeca Baleiro and I hope you like the song and Enjoy !

Telegrama

Eu tava triste, tristinho.

Mais sem graca que a top model magrela da passarela.

Eu tava s, sozinho.

Mais solitario que um paulistano, que o canastrao na hora que cai o pano.

Tava mais bobo que banda de rock,

que um palhaco do circo Vostok.

Mas ontem eu recebi um telegrama.

Era voce de Aracaju, ou do Alabama,

dizendo: nego, sinta-se feliz!

porque no mundo tem algum que diz,

que muito te ama, que muito te ama, que muito muito te ama, que tanto te ama.

Por isso hoje eu acordei com uma vontade danada

de mandar flores ao delegado

de bater na porta do vizinho e desejar bom dia,

de beijar o portugues da padaria.

Hoje eu acordei com uma vontade danada

de mandar flores ao delegado

de bater na porta do vizinho e desejar bom dia,

de beijar o portugues da padaria.

Mama, oh mama, oh mama

Quero ser seu, quero ser seu, quero ser seu papa

Mama, oh mama, oh mama

Quero ser seu, quero ser seu, quero ser seu papa

Eu tava triste, tristinho.

Mais sem graca que a top model magrela da passarela.

Eu tava s, sozinho.

Mais solitario que um paulistano, que um vilao de filme mexicano.

Tava mais bobo que banda de rock,

que um palhaco do circo Vostok.

Mas ontem eu recebi um telegrama.

Era voce de Aracaju, ou do Alabama,

dizendo: nego, sinta-se feliz!

porque no mundo tem algum que diz,

que muito te ama, que muito te ama, que muito muito te ama, que tanto te ama.

Por isso hoje eu acordei com uma vontade danada

de mandar flores ao delegado

de bater na porta do vizinho e desejar bom dia,

de beijar o portugues da padaria.

Hoje eu acordei com uma vontade danada

de mandar flores ao delegado

de bater na porta do vizinho e desejar bom dia,

de beijar o portugues da padaria.

Mama, oh mama, oh mama

Quero ser seu, quero ser seu, quero ser seu papa

Mama, oh mama, oh mama

Quero ser seu, quero ser seu, quero ser seu papa