Dear Mr. President,

Cantada pela P!nk - ou se preferirem Alecia Moore - esta musica, é uma carta aberta a George W. Bush, mas poderia ser muito bem dedicada a m...

Cantada pela P!nk - ou se preferirem Alecia Moore - esta musica, é uma carta aberta a George W. Bush, mas poderia ser muito bem dedicada a muitos outros dissimulados que por aí andam a tentar governar o mundo.

Liguem as colunas... ou se preferirem leiam só a letra, mas no fim da letra fica lá um video da musica Pink dos Aerosmith que é uma musica velhinha mas que também vale apena ouvir e sempre ficamos mais bem dispostos



Dear Mr. President,
Come take a walk with me.
Let's pretend we're just two people and
You're not better than me.
I'd like to ask you some questions if we can speak honestly.

What do you feel when you see all the homeless on the street?
Who do you pray for at night before you go to sleep?
What do you feel when you look in the mirror?
Are you proud?

How do you sleep while the rest of us cry?
How do you dream when a mother has no chance to say goodbye?
How do you walk with your head held high?
Can you even look me in the eye
And tell me why?

Dear Mr. President,
Were you a lonely boy?
Are you a lonely boy?
Are you a lonely boy?
How can you say
No child is left behind?
We're not dumb and we're not blind.
They're all sitting in your cells
While you pave the road to hell.

What kind of father would take his own daughter's rights away?
And what kind of father might hate his own daughter if she were gay?
I can only imagine what the first lady has to say
You've come a long way from whiskey and cocaine.

How do you sleep while the rest of us cry?
How do you dream when a mother has no chance to say goodbye?
How do you walk with your head held high?
Can you even look me in the eye?

Let me tell you 'bout hard work
Minimum wage with a baby on the way
Let me tell you 'bout hard work
Rebuilding your house after the bombs took them away
Let me tell you 'bout hard work
Building a bed out of a cardboard box
Let me tell you 'bout hard work
Hard work
Hard work
You don't know nothing 'bout hard work
Hard work
Hard work
Oh

How do you sleep at night?
How do you walk with your head held high?
Dear Mr. President,
You'd never take a walk with me.
Would you?


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Merda do Dia: Dear Mr. President,
Dear Mr. President,
Merda do Dia
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