Ranço de um velho...

Me chamem de velho, de ranzinza, o que quiserem, mas mesmo assim, depois de duas horas e meia de um show extasiante, eu saí assobiando (e alimentando a esperança de ouvir ao vivo):

Hey...oooh...
Sheets of empty canvas, untouched sheets of clay.
Were laid spread out before me as her body once did
All five horizons revolved around her soul
As the earth to the sun
Now the air I tasted and breathed
Has taken a turn
Ooh, and all I taught her was everything
Ooh, I know she gave me all that she wore

And now my bitter hands
shake beneath the clouds
Of what was everything?

Oh, the pictures have all been washed in black, Tattooedeverything...

I take a walk outside
I'm surrounded by some kids at play
I can feel their laughter,
So why do I sear?
Hard and twisted thoughts that spin round my head
I'm spinning, oh, I'm spinning
How quick the sun can, drop away
And now my bitter hands cradle broken glass
Of what was everything?

All the pictures have all been washed in black, tattooedeverything...

All the love gone bad
Turned my world to black
Tattooed all I see, all that I am, all I'll be...yeah...

Uh huh...uh huh...ooh... I know someday you'll have a beautiful life, I know you'll be a star, In somebody else's sky, but why Why, why can't it be, oh can't it be mine...

Eu estava pensando que talvez da próxima vez, quando eu já tiver uns 40 e tantos, eu já não agüente mais ir de pista. Mas depois que eu conversei com o Vidal, que fez 50 esse ano, que foi com a mulher e o filho de pista, chegando às 4 e meia da tarde para pegar um lugar perto do palco e saiu maravilhado às 11h50min, chego à conclusão que venham quando vierem (40, 50 ou 60), eu estarei lá novamente.