17.11.06

Mal du Siècle*: Ouvir violentamente (é uma ordem!)**

Peter Murphy
Cuts You Up

I find you in the morning
After dreams of distant signs
You pour yourself over me
Like the sun through the blinds
You lift me up
And get me out
Keep me walking
But never shout
Hold the secret close
I hear you say
You know the way
It twists and turns
Changing colour
Spinning yarns
You know the way
It leaves you dry
It cuts you up
It takes you high
You know the way
It's painted gold
Is it honey
Is it gold
You know the way
It throws about
It takes you in
And spits you out

Cuts you up
Cuts you up
Cuts you up

On and on it goes
Calling like a distant wind
Through the zero hour we'll walk
Cut the thick and break the thin
No sound to break no moment clear
When all the doubts are crystal clear
Crashing hard into the secret wind

You know the way
It throws about
It takes you in
And spits you out
It spits you out
When you desire
To conquer it
To feel you're higher
To follow it
You must be clean
With mistakes
That you do mean
Move the heart
Switch the pace
Look for what
Seems out of place
Cuts you up
Cuts you up

It's o.k.
It goes this way
The line it twists
It twists away

Cuts you up
and spits you out
Keeps you walking
But never shout.
-----------------
* Charles Baudelaire
** Não há meios-termos: conduzir a rasgar a noite,
na esperança de ver de frente a morte
e fugir-lhe por entre os dentes,
cabelos de vento,
gargalhadas à chuva que entra pelas janelas,
rodados chiando na contracurva:
viver bem e depressa,
a tua cabeça no meu ombro,
a tua mão que mordo
impedindo-me de cantar a plenos pulmões.
Confia em mim: dorme no meu colo.
Estamos perto de casa...
Não sou muito perigosa: enfeitiço em segundos,
só és meu para sempre.
Despenteias-me?

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