Manhã De Carnaval

You’re beautiful, but you don’t mean a thing.

Tiny vessels oozed into your neck and formed the bruises that you said you didn’t want to fade, but they did, and so did I that day. And all I see are dark gray clouds in the distance, moving closer with every hour. So, when you ask, “is something wrong?” that I think, “you’re damn right there is, but we can’t talk about it now. No, we can’t talk about it now.” So, one last touch and then you’ll go and we’ll pretend that it meant so much more. But, it was vile and it was cheap. And you are beautiful, but you don’t mean a thing to me. Yeah, you are beautiful, but you don’t mean a thing to me.