Archivi del mese: Dicembre 2014

Tom Waits, la voce dal ventre della notte

“La tua voce è un incrocio tra un petardo e un clown” (un bambino a Tom Waits)

Ol’ ’55

Well my time went so quickly
I went lickety, splitely, out to ma ol’55
As I pulled away slowly, feelin’ so holy
God knows I was feelin’ alive

Now the sun’s comin’ up
And I’m riding with Lady Luck
Freeway, cars and trucks
Stars beginning to fade and I lead
The parade
Just a wishin’ I’d stayed a little longer
Oh Lord that feelin’ gettin’ stronger

And it’s six in the morning
Gave me no warning
I had to be on my way
Now therès trucks all a passin’ me

And the lights all a flashin’
I’m on my way home from your place

Now the sun’s comin’ up
And I’m riding with Lady Luck
Freeway, cars and trucks
Stars beginning to fade and I lead
The parade
Just a wishin’ I’d stayed a little longer
Oh Lord that feelin’ gettin’ stronger

Well my time went so quickly
I went lickety, splitely, out to ma ol’55
As I pulled awav slowly, feelin’ so holy
God knows I was feelin’ alive

Now the sun’s comin’ up
And I’m riding with Lady Luck
Freeway, cars and trucks
Freeway, cars and trucks
Freeway, cars and trucks

[from “Closing Time”, 1973]

Sprecato e ferito, trovi nel canto notturno, quasi cavernoso, il suono che accarezza, poi squarcia, infine culla i brandelli di luce che strappi al buio per farcene dono prezioso, quel dono che si rinnova da oltre quarant’anni. Grazie Tom. Con affetto, DB

Tom Traubert’s Blues

Wasted and wounded, it ain’t what the moon did
Got what I paid for now
See ya tomorrow, hey Frank can I borrow
A couple of bucks from you?
To go waltzing Matilda, waltzing Matilda
You’ll go a waltzing Matilda with me

I’m an innocent victim of a blinded alley
And tired of all these soldiers here
No one speaks English and everything’s broken
And my Stacys are soaking wet
To go waltzing Matilda, waltzing Matilda
You’ll go a waltzing Matilda with me

Now the dogs are barking and the taxi cab’s parking
A lot they can do for me
I begged you to stab me, you tore my shirt open
And I’m down on my knees tonight
Old Bushmill’s I staggered, you buried the dagger
Your silhouette window light
To go waltzing Matilda, waltzing Matilda
You’ll go a waltzing Matilda with me

Now I lost my Saint Christopher now that I’ve kissed her
And the one-armed bandit knows
And the maverick Chinaman and the cold-blooded signs
And the girls down by the strip-tease shows
Go, waltzing Matilda, waltzing Matilda
You’ll go a waltzing Matilda with me

No, I don’t want your sympathy
The fugitives say that the streets aren’t for dreaming now
Manslaughter dragnets and the ghosts that sell memories
They want a piece of the action anyhow
Go, waltzing Matilda, waltzing Matilda
You’ll go a waltzing Matilda with me

And you can ask any sailor and the keys from the jailor
And the old men in wheelchairs know
That Matilda’s the defendant, she killed about a hundred
And she follows wherever you may go
Waltzing Matilda, waltzing Matilda
You’ll go a waltzing Matilda with me

And it’s a battered old suitcase to a hotel someplace
And a wound that will never heal
No prima donna, the perfume is on
An old shirt that is stained with blood and whiskey
And goodnight to the street sweepers
The night watchman flame keepers and goodnight to Matilda too

[from “Small Change”, 1976]

You wave your hand and they scatter like crows
They have nothing that will ever capture your heart
They’re just thorns without the rose
Be careful of them in the dark