Open up your magazine and see what's inside. I'm sure that you will find me--this is where I hide. Treat me as your fantasy, escape from the day. Into my model existence.
It is nothing to live as we do. Day to day we roam. Heart without a home of our own. Dust and passion lay in our throats. Revenge in each word that spoke.
I can hear Brazilian love songs, more every day. They seem stronger on the wind--you don't seem so far away. Someday I'm going to be there, someday I'll be.