ORGY
The wines in this orgy more banal,
They are our false dreams, worthless,
Well before these fools have me silenced,
I speak and I disorder, it does not hurt,
Paying the same price, everything is equal,
Because souls are rough shred,
Not having the more laps I calm down,
Seeking another face ritual,
No laurels of victory without glory
I redo every month the same story
Paying rent this for a living,
If the verse has no rhyme or head
Already serving to one that addresses
The left must not understand me...
MARCOS LOURES
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