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Printemps
Is in the air...
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I better stay with God
If I want to be healed...
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Gifted child
You are so smart...
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The mare of sorrow,
she drinks from the well...
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Butterflies, butterflies
here and there...
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Love, even when it lies still,
Leaves its fingerprint upon the soul...
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I don’t call myself an addict.
That name doesn’t fit the person I’ve become...
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When the body begins to rule over the mind
When the senses go for a toss...
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Before “before” existed
when even nothing hadn’t happened yet...
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Quem me dara o paraiso
For me to live...
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Friend you are to me
More than a brother...
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Today we landed
Early this morning...