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Teardrops falling over tons of powder,
mutilated lips hidden in glowing sticks,
blurred expressions make them prouder
under the shape their fringe obliques.

Umbrella eyelashes lost in falling wires
hide the contradiction of their lives so suave,
that's the beauty this childish tribe inspires,
dark is cool, sad is cute, pomade isn't a salve.

Look at all this postmodern subculture around!
Everybody hates them, nobody is, nobody cares.
But despite all of this, they really made a sound,
trying to see a way through the straightened hair...

(Júlio B.)