Well I got a bad liver and broken heart,
I drunk me a river since you tore me apart
And I don't have a drinking problem, 'cept when I can't get a drink
And I wish you'd a-known her, we were quite a pair,
She was sharp as a razor and soft as a prayer
So welcome to the continuing saga, she was my better half, and I was just a dog
And so here am I slumped, I've been chipped and I've been chumped on my stool
So buy this fool some spirits and libations, it's these railroad station bars
And all these conductors and porters, and I'm all out of quarters
And this epitaph is the aftermath, yeah I choose my path, hey, come on, Kath,
He's a lawyer, he ain't the one for ya
No, the moon ain't romantic, it's intimidating as hell,
And some guy's trying to sell me a watch
And so I'll meet you at the bottom of a bottle of bargain Scotch
I got me a bottle and a dream, it's so maudlin it seems,
You can name your poison, go on ahead and make some noise
I ain't sentimental, this ain't a purchase, it's a rental, and it's purgatory,
And hey, what's your story, well I don't even care
'Cause I got my own double-cross to bear
And I'll see your Red Label, and I'll raise you one more,
And you can pour me a cab, I just can't drink no more,
'Cause it don't douse the flames that are started by dames,
It ain't like asbestos
It don't do nothing but rest us assured,
And substantiate the rumors that you've heard
11 comentários:
ó amiga lunar, aqui eu - mosca me confesso- já nem coração tenho. agora dou-me pelo petit-nom de foie gras...só sei gostar e desgostar assim, com as entranhas!
ah, é verdade- delicatesse oblige - bem-vinda, mais vale tarde que nunca!
o piano desistiu, eu não.
xxx??????
há dias complicados
... e noites de maré-cheia
"If you could read my mind, love,
What a tale my thoughts could tell.
Just like an old time movie,
'Bout a ghost from a wishing well.
In a castle dark or a fortress strong,
With chains around my feet.
You know that ghost is me.
And I will never be set free
As long as I'm a ghost that you can't see.
If I could read your mind, love,
What a tale your thoughts could tell.
Just like a paperback novel,
The kind the drugstores sell.
When you reached the part where the heartaches come,
The hero would be me.
But heroes often fail,
And you won't read that book again
Because the ending's just too hard to take!
I'd walk away like a movie star
Who gets burned in a three way script.
Enter number two:
A movie queen to play the scene
Of bringing all the good things out in me.
But for now, love, let's be real;
I never thought I could act this way
And I've got to say that I just don't get it.
I don't know where we went wrong,
But the feeling's gone
And I just can't get it back.
If you could read my mind, love,
What a tale my thoughts could tell.
Just like an old time movie,
'Bout a ghost from a wishing well.
In a castle dark or a fortress strong.
With chains upon my feet.
But stories always end,
And if you read between the lines,
You'll know that I'm just tryin' to understand
The feelin's that you lack.
I never thought I could feel this way
And I've got to say that I just don't get it.
I don't know where we went wrong,
But the feelin's gone
And I just can't get it back!"
American V
ó plex, essa canção mais parece a mariana a escrever ao chamily: «escrevo-lhe para lhe dizer que não lhe volto a escrever» - versão adília, tá bem de ver. então se o moço da canção perdeu os sentimentos pela dita porque é que lhe canta ainda...o melhor é trautear o velho vinicius: «não, eu não sou ninguém de ir em conversa de esquecer a tristeza de um amor que passou, não, eu só vou se for p´ra ver uma estrela aparecer na manhã de um novo amor». ou será que o moço não sabe lá muito bem o que sente??acontece aos melhores...« amigo, senhor, saravá, changô me mandou lhe dizer,pergunte ao seu orixá, amor só é bom se doer...»
na ressaca do dia de hoje, aquilo, com a voz do Cash cantador noutros épês, apaziguou-me as entranhas. bem como a voz q nos vem revisitar a 14 de maio.
"um pouco mais de sol-eu era brasa,
um pouco mais de azul-eu era além.
para atingir, faltou-me um golpe de asa...
se ao menos eu permanecesse aquém...
assombro ou paz? em
vão... tudo esvaído
num grande mar
enganador de espuma"...
para um nebuloso dia, o mário. via têémeéne.
olha, por falar no marito, o que limava as unhas, neste dia bebuloso: « a minha alma sentou-se e não há quem a levante, que do poente ao levante a minha alma sentou-se»..vou mas é pô-la a dormir - depois de um bom livro - a ver se o corpo não sucumbe também! venham os dias de sol! e quem é que nos revisita a 14 de Maio?
ah..pois, o moço do transgénero. deve ser um bom concerto!
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