Foda, fodinha, fodão.
(...) Before… …when people had secrets
they didn’t want to share …they’d climb a mountain They’d find a tree
and carve a hole in it
And whisper the secret into the hole Then cover it over with mud That way nobody else would
ever discover it I once fell in love with someone After a while she wasn’t there I went to I thought she might be waiting
for me there But I couldn’t find her I can’t stop wondering if
she loved me or not But I never found out Maybe her answer was
like a secret... that no one else would ever know All memories are traces of tears.
(…)
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