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Thứ 6 (08/08/08)

Trung Quốc nó làm cái lễ khai mạc như thế chứ.


(Thôi chả nói nữa không lại bảo là không có tinh thần tự hào dân tộc)


Chuẩn bị đồ sáng mai đi chơi nào ^^


Moon Over Bourbon Street
Sting
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There's a moon over Bourbon Street tonight.
I see faces as they pass beneath the pale lamplight.
I've no choice but to follow that call:
the bright lights, the people, and the moon and all.

I pray everyday to be strong,
for I know what I do must be wrong.
Oh you'll never see my shade
or hear the sound of my feet
while there's a moon over Bourbon Street.

It was many years ago that I became what I am.
I was trapped in this life like an innocent lamb.
Now I can never show my face at noon
and you'll only see me walking by the light of the moon.

The brim of my hat hides the eye of a beast.
I've the face of a sinner but the hands of a priest.
Oh you'll never see my shade
or hear the sound of my feet
while there's a moon over Bourbon Street.

She walks everyday through the streets of New Orleans.
She's innocent and young from a family of means.
I have stood many times outside her window at night
to struggle with my instinct in the pale moon light.

How could I be this way when I pray to God above?
I must love what I destroy and destroy the thing I love.
Oh you'll never see my shade
or hear the sound of my feet
while there's a moon over Bourbon Street.

February 2014
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