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As bolachas ficam moles com o tempo
Já os bolos ficam duros de roer
A comida com bolor vai toda fora
Mas no queijo faz alto pitéu gormet
A vida não faz sentido nenhum
Os cisnes são pretos mas ficam brancos
O pó que tirei ontem voltou a cair
A vida não faz sentido nenhum
Já os bolos ficam duros de roer
A comida com bolor vai toda fora
Mas no queijo faz alto pitéu gormet
A vida não faz sentido nenhum
Os cisnes são pretos mas ficam brancos
O pó que tirei ontem voltou a cair
A vida não faz sentido nenhum
Credits
Writer(s): We Maw
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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