Devem ser as tantas da manhã. Esta mulher de cabelo apanhado, rosto limpo, sopra palavras com uma vibração suave, dolente, alguns riscos de rouquidão. E há homens escondidos na noite: sopram à volta dela, perto e longe dela.
Balouçam, ligeiros, os brincos nos lóbulos da mulher que sopra. Na boca dela desenha-se, fine and mellow, a doçura nocturna, perdida, de um sorriso. A maravilhosa ironia do seu olhar.
São estas as palavras que a boca de Billie Holliday sopra. Escreveu-as ela também.
Treats me oh so mean
My man he don’t love me
Treats me awfully
He’s the lowest man
That I’ve ever see
Stripes are really yellow
He wears high trimmed pants
Stripes are really yellow
But when he starts in to love me
He’s so fine and mellow
Make you stay out all night long
Love will make you drink and gamble
Make you stay out all night long
Love will make you do things
That you know is wrong
I’ll stay home everyday
If you treat me right baby
I’ll stay home everyday
But you’re so mean to me baby
I know you’re gonna drive me away
It turns off and on
Love is like the faucet
It turns off and on
Sometimes when you think it’s on baby
It has turned off and gone
Great! Special words, special voice…
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One hundred per cent right, dear Fonseca cousine.
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