<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-794443543762595231</id><updated>2011-04-21T13:22:39.573-07:00</updated><title type='text'>History of my Musics</title><subtitle type='html'>Sabe quando aquela música toca e você lembra exatamente daquele dia?</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://historyofmymusics.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/794443543762595231/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://historyofmymusics.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Ceará</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823151430539961049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_mhGgsqq25_A/SBagpkQvjrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hVgeBJiqoHk/S220/avatar+rafa.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>4</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-794443543762595231.post-4949412013899986286</id><published>2008-06-26T12:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T04:39:26.523-08:00</updated><title type='text'>GREEN DAY - JESUS OF SUBURBIA</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;FATO: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Dessa vez é algo mais que um fato. Lembro de um olhar quando ouço qualquer coisa do Green Day. Afinal, a musica madura e de batida jovial me lembra muito alguém.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;GREEN DAY - JESUS OF SUBURBIA&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mhGgsqq25_A/SGPwciSTbTI/AAAAAAAAABA/dsvUfqywtl8/s1600-h/FACES.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 248px; height: 187px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mhGgsqq25_A/SGPwciSTbTI/AAAAAAAAABA/dsvUfqywtl8/s320/FACES.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216277166455745842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Part I: Jesus Of Suburbia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I'm the son of rage and love&lt;br /&gt;The Jesus of Suburbia&lt;br /&gt;The bible of none of the above&lt;br /&gt;On a steady diet of&lt;br /&gt;Soda Pop and Ritalin&lt;br /&gt;No one ever died from my&lt;br /&gt;Sins in hell&lt;br /&gt;As far as I can tell&lt;br /&gt;At least the ones that I got away with&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And there's nothing wrong with me&lt;br /&gt;This is how I'm supposed to be&lt;br /&gt;In a land of make believe&lt;br /&gt;That don't believe in me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Get my television fix&lt;br /&gt;Sitting on my crucifix&lt;br /&gt;The living room or my private womb&lt;br /&gt;While the Moms and Brads are away&lt;br /&gt;To fall in love and fall in debt&lt;br /&gt;To alcohol and cigarettes&lt;br /&gt;And Mary Jane&lt;br /&gt;To keep me insane&lt;br /&gt;Doing someone else's cocaine&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And there's nothing wrong with me&lt;br /&gt;This is how I'm supposed to be&lt;br /&gt;In a land of make believe&lt;br /&gt;That don't believe in me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Part II: City of the Damned&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the center of the earth&lt;br /&gt;In the parking lot&lt;br /&gt;Of the 7-11 were I was taught&lt;br /&gt;The motto was just a lie&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It says home is were your heart is&lt;br /&gt;But what a shame&lt;br /&gt;Cause everyone's heart&lt;br /&gt;Doesn't beat the same&lt;br /&gt;It's beating out of time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;City of the dead&lt;br /&gt;At the end of another lost highway&lt;br /&gt;Signs misleading to nowhere&lt;br /&gt;City of the damned&lt;br /&gt;Lost children with dirty faces today&lt;br /&gt;No one really seems to care&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I read the graffiti&lt;br /&gt;In the bathroom stall&lt;br /&gt;Like the holy scriptures of a shopping mall&lt;br /&gt;And so it seemed to confess&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It didn't say much&lt;br /&gt;But it only confirmed that&lt;br /&gt;The center of the earth&lt;br /&gt;Is the end of the world&lt;br /&gt;And I could really care less&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;City of the dead&lt;br /&gt;At the end of another lost highway&lt;br /&gt;Signs misleading to nowhere&lt;br /&gt;City of the damned&lt;br /&gt;Lost children with dirty faces today&lt;br /&gt;No one really seems to care&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Part III: I don't care&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't care if you don't&lt;br /&gt;I don't care if you don't&lt;br /&gt;I don't care if you don't care (4x)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't careeeeeee.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone is so full of shit&lt;br /&gt;Born and raised by hypocrites&lt;br /&gt;Hearts recycled but never saved&lt;br /&gt;From the cradle to the grave&lt;br /&gt;We are the kings of war and peace&lt;br /&gt;From Anaheim to the Middle East&lt;br /&gt;We are the stories and disciples of&lt;br /&gt;The Jesus of suburbia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Land of make believe&lt;br /&gt;That don't believe in me&lt;br /&gt;Land of make believe&lt;br /&gt;And I don't believe&lt;br /&gt;And I don't care! (5x)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Part IV: Dearly beloved&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dearly beloved are you listening?&lt;br /&gt;I can't remember a word that you were saying&lt;br /&gt;Are we demented or am I disturbed?&lt;br /&gt;The space that's in between insane and insecure&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh therapy, can you please fill the void?&lt;br /&gt;Am I retarded or am I just overjoyed&lt;br /&gt;Nobody's perfect and I stand accused&lt;br /&gt;For lack of a better word, and that's my best excuse&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Part V: Tales of another broken home&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To live, and not to breathe&lt;br /&gt;Is to die, in tragedy&lt;br /&gt;To run, to run away&lt;br /&gt;To find, what you believe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I leave behind&lt;br /&gt;This hurricane of fucking lies&lt;br /&gt;I lost my faith to this&lt;br /&gt;This town that don't exist&lt;br /&gt;So I run ,I run away&lt;br /&gt;To the light of masochists&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I, leave behind&lt;br /&gt;This hurricane of fucking lies&lt;br /&gt;And I, walked this line&lt;br /&gt;A million and one fucking times&lt;br /&gt;But not this time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't feel any shame&lt;br /&gt;I wont apologize&lt;br /&gt;When there ain't nowhere you can go&lt;br /&gt;Running away from pain&lt;br /&gt;When you've been victimized&lt;br /&gt;Tales from another broken home&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're leaving...&lt;br /&gt;You're leaving...&lt;br /&gt;You're leaving...&lt;br /&gt;Ah, you're leaving home...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/794443543762595231-4949412013899986286?l=historyofmymusics.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://historyofmymusics.blogspot.com/feeds/4949412013899986286/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=794443543762595231&amp;postID=4949412013899986286' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/794443543762595231/posts/default/4949412013899986286'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/794443543762595231/posts/default/4949412013899986286'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://historyofmymusics.blogspot.com/2008/06/green-day-jesus-of-suburbia.html' title='GREEN DAY - JESUS OF SUBURBIA'/><author><name>Ceará</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823151430539961049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_mhGgsqq25_A/SBagpkQvjrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hVgeBJiqoHk/S220/avatar+rafa.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mhGgsqq25_A/SGPwciSTbTI/AAAAAAAAABA/dsvUfqywtl8/s72-c/FACES.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-794443543762595231.post-5501862075615043742</id><published>2008-06-12T17:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T04:39:26.680-08:00</updated><title type='text'>CARLA BRUNI - QUELQU'UN M'A DIT</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mhGgsqq25_A/SFG8kOi0cBI/AAAAAAAAAAs/3FKD6AcI22Q/s1600-h/paris_carla_bruni.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mhGgsqq25_A/SFG8kOi0cBI/AAAAAAAAAAs/3FKD6AcI22Q/s320/paris_carla_bruni.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211153574409826322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;FATO: &lt;/span&gt;Pablo, um amigo meu, me dá de presente um CD com músicas francesas, e lá tá a Carla Bruni, além de linda, top model, é a primeira dama da França. Pode mais?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;CARLA BRUNI - QUELQU'UN M'A DIT&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On me dit que nos vies ne valent pas grand chose,&lt;br /&gt;Elles passent en un instant comme fanent les roses.&lt;br /&gt;On me dit que le temps qui glisse est un salaud que de nos chagrins il s'en fait des manteaux pourtant quelqu'un m'a dit...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Refrain&lt;br /&gt;Que tu m'aimais encore,&lt;br /&gt;C'est quelqu'un qui m'a dit que tu m'aimais encore.&lt;br /&gt;Serais ce possible alors ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On me dit que le destin se moque bien de nous&lt;br /&gt;Qu'il ne nous donne rien et qu'il nous promet tout&lt;br /&gt;Parais qu'le bonheur est à portée de main,&lt;br /&gt;Alors on tend la main et on se retrouve fou&lt;br /&gt;Pourtant quelqu'un m'a dit ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Refrain&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mais qui est ce qui m'a dit que toujours tu m'aimais?&lt;br /&gt;Je ne me souviens plus c'était tard dans la nuit,&lt;br /&gt;J'entend encore la voix, mais je ne vois plus les traits&lt;br /&gt;"Il vous aime, c'est secret, lui dites pas que j'vous l'ai dit"&lt;br /&gt;Tu vois quelqu'un m'a dit...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que tu m'aimais encore, me l'a t'on vraiment dit...&lt;br /&gt;Que tu m'aimais encore, serais ce possible alors ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On me dit que nos vies ne valent pas grand chose,&lt;br /&gt;Elles passent en un instant comme fanent les roses&lt;br /&gt;On me dit que le temps qui glisse est un salaud&lt;br /&gt;Que de nos tristesses il s'en fait des manteaux,&lt;br /&gt;Pourtant quelqu'un m'a dit que...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Refrain&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/794443543762595231-5501862075615043742?l=historyofmymusics.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://historyofmymusics.blogspot.com/feeds/5501862075615043742/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=794443543762595231&amp;postID=5501862075615043742' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/794443543762595231/posts/default/5501862075615043742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/794443543762595231/posts/default/5501862075615043742'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://historyofmymusics.blogspot.com/2008/06/carla-bruni-quelquun-ma-dit.html' title='CARLA BRUNI - QUELQU&apos;UN M&apos;A DIT'/><author><name>Ceará</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823151430539961049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_mhGgsqq25_A/SBagpkQvjrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hVgeBJiqoHk/S220/avatar+rafa.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mhGgsqq25_A/SFG8kOi0cBI/AAAAAAAAAAs/3FKD6AcI22Q/s72-c/paris_carla_bruni.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-794443543762595231.post-2911205850619200570</id><published>2008-06-12T16:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-12T17:06:43.168-07:00</updated><title type='text'>NEW ORDER - BIZZARE TRIANGLE LOVE</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;FATO:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Estou eu tentando dormi, e a algumas quadras da minha casa está rolando uma festa "Anos 80", e eis que surge tal melodia, extremamente cativante, e com um quê de "quero suingar". Além, é claro, de uma bela poesia.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NEW ORDER - BIZZARE TRIANGLE LOVE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every time i think of you&lt;br /&gt;I feel shot right through with a bolt of blue&lt;br /&gt;It's no problem of mine but it's a problem I find&lt;br /&gt;Living a life that I can't leave behind&lt;br /&gt;There's no sense in telling me&lt;br /&gt;The wisdom of a fool won't set you free&lt;br /&gt;But that's the way that it goes&lt;br /&gt;And it's what nobody knows&lt;br /&gt;While every day my confusion grows&lt;br /&gt;Every time I see you falling&lt;br /&gt;I get down on my knees and pray&lt;br /&gt;I'm waiting for that final moment&lt;br /&gt;You'll say the words that I can't say&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel fine and I feel good&lt;br /&gt;I'm feeling like I never should&lt;br /&gt;Whenever I get this way, I just don't know what to say&lt;br /&gt;Why can't we be ourselves like we were yesterday&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure what this could mean&lt;br /&gt;I don't think you're what you seem&lt;br /&gt;I do admit to myself&lt;br /&gt;That if I hurt someone else&lt;br /&gt;Then I'll never see just what we're meant to be&lt;br /&gt;Every time I see you falling&lt;br /&gt;I get down on my knees and pray&lt;br /&gt;I'm waiting for that final moment&lt;br /&gt;You'll say the words that I can't say&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/794443543762595231-2911205850619200570?l=historyofmymusics.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://historyofmymusics.blogspot.com/feeds/2911205850619200570/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=794443543762595231&amp;postID=2911205850619200570' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/794443543762595231/posts/default/2911205850619200570'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/794443543762595231/posts/default/2911205850619200570'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://historyofmymusics.blogspot.com/2008/06/new-order-bizzare-triangle-love.html' title='NEW ORDER - BIZZARE TRIANGLE LOVE'/><author><name>Ceará</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823151430539961049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_mhGgsqq25_A/SBagpkQvjrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hVgeBJiqoHk/S220/avatar+rafa.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-794443543762595231.post-1551931945058279149</id><published>2008-06-11T11:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-11T11:46:33.310-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What if God was One of Us - Joan Osborne</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" &gt;FA&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;TO:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: verdana;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Estava eu assistindo "Cold Case" e me vem essa música que há tempos não ouvia...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;What if God was One of Us - Joan Osborne&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;If God had a name, what would it be&lt;br /&gt;And would you call it to his face&lt;br /&gt;If you were faced with him in all his glory&lt;br /&gt;What would you ask if you had just one question&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;And yeah yeah God is great yeah yeah God is good&lt;br /&gt;yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;What if God was one of us&lt;br /&gt;Just a slob like one of us&lt;br /&gt;Just a stranger on the bus&lt;br /&gt;Trying to make his way home&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;If God had a face what would it look like&lt;br /&gt;And would you want to see&lt;br /&gt;If seeing meant that you would have to believe&lt;br /&gt;In things like heaven and in jesus and the saints and all the prophets&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;And yeah yeah god is great yeah yeah god is good&lt;br /&gt;yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;What if God was one of us&lt;br /&gt;Just a slob like one of us&lt;br /&gt;Just a stranger on the bus&lt;br /&gt;Trying to make his way home&lt;br /&gt;He's trying to make his way home&lt;br /&gt;Back up to heaven all alone&lt;br /&gt;Nobody calling on the phone&lt;br /&gt;Except for the pope maybe in rome&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;And yeah yeah God is great yeah yeah God is good&lt;br /&gt;yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;What if god was one of us&lt;br /&gt;Just a slob like one of us&lt;br /&gt;Just a stranger on the bus&lt;br /&gt;Trying to make his way home&lt;br /&gt;Just trying to make his way home&lt;br /&gt;Like a holy rolling stone&lt;br /&gt;Back up to heaven all alone&lt;br /&gt;Just trying to make his way home&lt;br /&gt;Nobody calling on the phone&lt;br /&gt;Except for the pope maybe in rome&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/794443543762595231-1551931945058279149?l=historyofmymusics.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://historyofmymusics.blogspot.com/feeds/1551931945058279149/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=794443543762595231&amp;postID=1551931945058279149' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/794443543762595231/posts/default/1551931945058279149'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/794443543762595231/posts/default/1551931945058279149'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://historyofmymusics.blogspot.com/2008/06/what-if-god-was-one-of-us-joan-osborne.html' title='What if God was One of Us - Joan Osborne'/><author><name>Ceará</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823151430539961049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_mhGgsqq25_A/SBagpkQvjrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hVgeBJiqoHk/S220/avatar+rafa.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
