O que é, o que é. Clara e salgada Cabe em um olho Pesa uma toneladaTem sabor de mar Pode ser discreta Inquilina da dor Morada predileta Na calada ela vem Refém da vingança Irmã do desespero Rival da esperança.

Y algo golpeaba en mi alma,
fiebre o alas perdidas,
y me fui haciendo solo,
descifrando
aquella quemadura
y escribí la primera línea vaga,
vaga, sin cuerpo, pura,
tontería
pura sabiduría
del que no sabe nada,
y vi de pronto
el cielo
desgranado
y abierto.

O que é, o que é. Clara e salgada Cabe em um olho Pesa uma toneladaTem sabor de mar Pode ser discreta Inquilina da dor Morada predileta Na calada ela vem Refém da vingança Irmã do desespero Rival da esperança.

For me coming back here, it means a lot. This room, in particular. There were some tears shed. A lot

Back in the days, when people didn’t have their own home studios, they had to get songs done that day. There was a certain magic in that ‘hurry up and get it done’ kind of thing.

Nostalgia, as always, had wiped away bad memories and magnified the good ones.

I feel a lot of joy coming back here. It’s kind of like seeing an old friend I haven’t seen in a long time.

In all things I yearn for the past. Modern fashions seem to keep on growing more and more debased. I find that even among the splendid pieces of furniture built by our master cabinetmakers, those in the old forms are the most pleasing.