This Week In God/ A coisa mais bonita que vão ouvir nos próximos 5 minutos


[Livro de curso do Liceu de Idyll, San Diego, 1966]

Tom Waits discorre sobre a Kentucky Avenue, onde cresceu, falando sobre as pessoas que lhe marcaram a infância: da Mrs. Storm, mulher que se sentava na cozinha de casa com a janela aberta e a 'cabeça' de uma caçadeira à espreita, até ao seu melhor amigo de infância (a quem é dirigido o discurso directo da canção), Kipper, que tinha 10 anos, poliomielite e andava numa cadeira de rodas.
A canção, cuja narrativa se passa quando Tom Waits tinha uns 10 anos (há 50 anos atrás, portanto), oferece-nos toda uma construção orquestrada até ao grande final, dramático e comovente.

Kentucky Avenue - Tom Waits
"Blue Valentines" (1978)

«Well, Eddie Grace's Buick got four bullet holes in the side
And Charlie DeLisle is sittin' at the top of an avocado tree
Mrs. Storm will stab you with a steak knife if you step on her lawn
I got a half a pack of Lucky Strikes, man, so come along with me
And let's fill our pockets with macadamia nuts
And go over to Bobby Goodmanson's and jump off the roof

Well, Hilda plays strip poker when her mama's cross the street
Joey Navinski says she put her tongue in his mouth
And Dicky Faulkner's got a switchblade and some gooseneck risers
That eucalyptus is a hunchback, there's a wind down from the south
So let me tie you up with kite string and I'll show you the scabs on my knee
Watch out for the broken glass, put your shoes and socks on
And come along with me

Let's follow that fire truck, I think your house is burnin' down
And go down to the hobo jungle and kill some rattlesnakes with a trowel
And we'll break all the windows in the old Anderson place
And we'll steal a bunch of boysenberries and I'll smear 'em on your face
I'll get a dollar from my mama's purse and buy that scull and crossbones ring
And you can wear it 'round your neck on an old piece of string

Then we'll spit on Ronnie Arnold and flip him the bird
And slash the tires on the school bus, now don't say a word
I'll take a rusty nail and scratch your initials in my arm
And I'll show you how to sneak up on the roof of the drugstore
I'll take the spokes from your wheelchair and a magpie's wings
And I'll tie 'em to your shoulders and your feet
I'll steal a hacksaw from my dad and cut the braces off your legs
And we'll bury them tonight out in the cornfield
Just put a church key in your pocket, we'll hop that freight train in the hall
We'll slide all the way down the drain to New Orleans in the fall»

[Para uma descodificação completa da letra, vão aqui]
publicado por Olavo Lüpia às 02:21 | link do post | comentar