Scorpions in Love

Baby I’m sorry, I’ve got to go. Maybe i’ll write you: I probably won’t. You brought such misery into my life! Yoy’re lucky I don’t carry a knife. Baby I love you but i’ve got to go. Maybe I’ll miss you: I don’t think so! Maybe I’m lucky to be alive. Oh, what a stupid thing to remember! You put poison in my soup, you put devils in my dreams, hid your snakes in all my sockets, raised your spiders in my pockets, and you brought home for my birthday a venereal disease... give me love, give me love, oh please?! You said: “Baby let’s get married!”. You said: “Baby let’s get lost!”. I said: “Honey! I don’t mean maybe!”. You said: “Maybe, maybe, maybe. Perhaps! I don’t know... can it be? Is it so?”. Well, nevermind, I’ve got to go. If you think of what I’m thinking and I think you’re thinking of what did happen to our precious dreams... well, the dreams were not enough! Looking back now that I’m sober, this conclusion’s not absurd: baby, we were scorpions in love!

Letra de JP Simões, Belle Chase Hotel.
Fotografia de Pedro Cláudio.