Police tickets...

cImperdível, claro. Estes já cá moram: em Setembro lá estaremos.

“I've called you so many times today
And I guess it's all true what your girlfriends say
That you don't ever want to see me again
And your brother's gonna kill me and he's six feet ten
I guess you'd call it cowardice
But I'm not prepared to go on like this

I can't, I can't
I can't stand losing
I can't stand losing you

I see you've sent my letters back
And my LP records and they're all scratched
I can't see the point in another day
When nobody listens to a word I say
You can call it lack of confidence
But to carry on living doesn't make no sense

I can't, I can't
I can't stand losing

I guess this is our last goodbye
And you don't care so I won't cry
But you'll be sorry when I'm dead
And all this guilt will be on your head
I guess you'd call it suicide
But I'm too full to swallow my pride

I can't, I can't
I can't stand losing
I can't stand losing you”

'Can't Stand Losing', The Police