"everything I love is on the table, everything I love is out to sea."

Dull light breaks behind the houses
I don’t see what’s strange about this.
Tiny bubbles hang above me.
It’s a sign that someone loves me.
I can hardly stand upright
Hit my head upon the light
I have faith but don’t believe it
It's not there enough to leave it.

Everything I love is on the table.
Everything I love is out to sea.

I have only two emotions,
Careful fear and dead devotion.
I can’t get the balance right.
Throw all my marbles in the fire.
I see all the ones I wept for
All the things I had it in for
I won’t cry until I hear
Cause I was not supposed to be here.

Everything I love is on the table.
Everything I love is out to sea.
I’m not alone,
I’ll never be.
Into the bone,
I’ll never grieve.

I’m tired, I’m freezing, I’m done
When it gets so late I forget everyone.
I need somewhere to stay.
Don’t think anybody I know is awake.
Calm down it’s alright,
Keep my arms the rest of the night.
When they ask what do I see,
I say a bright white beautiful heaven hangin’ over me.

I’m not alone,
I’ll never be.
Into the bone,
I’ll never grieve.
And if you want, (dead seriously)
To see me cry. (don’t swallow the cap)
Play ‘Let It Be’ (pat yourself on the back)
Or ‘Nevermind’. (dead seriously)

Is it time to leave? Is it time to think about
What I wanna say to the girls at the door?
I need somewhere to be
But I can’t get around the river in front of me.
Calm down it’s alright,
Lead my arms the rest of the night.
When they ask what do I see,
I say a bright white beautiful heaven hangin’ over me.

I’m not alone, (dead seriously)
I’ll never be. (don’t swallow the cap)
Into the bones, (pat yourself on the back)
I’ll never grieve (dead seriously)
And if you want, (dead seriously)
To see me cry, (don’t swallow the cap)
Play ‘Let It Be’ (pat yourself on the back)
Or ‘Nevermind’. (dead seriously)

Bons dias, semana

Ando com esta música na cabeça desde manhã, tipo 8 da manhã. O meu cérebro já está emergido num completo Primavera Sound mode, o que não é muito produtivo ou aconselhável com as semanas de aulas que restam.

Oh well... esta é uma música do caraças.

"sorrow drips into your heart through a pinhole

just like a faucet that leaks and there is comfort in the sound

but while you debate half empty or half full

it slowly rises, your love is gonna drown..."

"don't know. don't care. all I know is you can take me there."

"now that you're mine 

we'll find a way of chasing the sun

let me be the one that shines with you

'cause in the morning I won't know what to do."

"I don't see what anyone can see in anyone else... but you."

"you're a part-time lover and a full-time friend. the monkey on your back is the latest trend. I don't see what anyone can see in anyone else... but you. I'll kiss you on the brain in the shadow of the train, I'll kiss you all starry-eyed, my body swinging from side to side. I don't see what anyone can see in anyone else... but you. here is the church and here is the steeple, we sure are cute for two ugly people. I don't see what anyone can see in anyone else... but you. pebbles forgive me, the trees forgive, so why can't you forgive me? I don't see what anyone can see in anyone else... but you. I will find my niche in your car with my MP3, DVD, rumble pack, guitar. I don't see what anyone can see in anyone else... but you. Up, up, down, down, left, right, left, right, B, A, start, just because we use cheats doesn't mean we're not smart. I don't see what anyone can see in anyone else... but you. you are always trying to keep it real, I'm in love with how you feel. I don't see what anyone can see in anyone else... but you. we both have shiny happy fits of rage: you want more fans, I want more stage. I don't see what anyone can see in anyone else... but you. Don Quixote was a steel-driving man. my name is Adam, I'm your biggest fan. I don't see what anyone can see in anyone else... but you. squinched up your face and did a dance, shook a little turd out of the bottom of your pants. I don't see what anyone can see in anyone else... 

....but you...

....but you."

"with your kiss my life begins"

"You touch me
I hear the sound of mandolins
And you kiss me
With your kiss my life begins

Love me, love me
Say you do

Let me fly away
With you"

"this is the first day of my life"

Ouvir Bright Eyes às 3.27 da manhã é coisa que não se deve fazer, é coisa para deprimir a qualquer hora, mas especialmente agora dado que a noite é propícia à reflexão e acaba-se sempre por chegar à mesma conclusão: eu devia estar na cama que o meu mal é sono. 

Mas depois o Conor diz algo como:

 "This is the first day of my life 
I'm glad I didn't die before I met you 
Now I don't care, I could go anywhere with you 
And I'd probably be happy"

E aí tudo se relativiza. 

«And flicking his bowler hat by of farewell, Richard turned at the corner of Conduit Street eager, yes, very eager, to travel that spider's thread of attachment between himself and Clarissa; he woulg go straight to her, in Westminster.

But he wanted to come in holding something. Flowers? Yes, flowers, since he did not trust his taste in gold; any number of flowers, roses, orchids, to celebrate what was, reckoning things as you will, and event; this feeling about her when they spoke of Peter Walsh at luncheon; and they never spoke of it; not for years had they spoken of it; which, he thought, grasping his red and white roses together (a vast of bunch in tissue paper), is the greatest mistake in the world. The time comes when it can't be said; one's too shy to say it, he thought, pocketing his sixpence or two of change, setting off with his great buch held against his body to Westminster, to say straight out in so many words (whatever she might think of him), holding out his flowers, "I love you." Why not? Really it was a miracle thinking of the war, and thousands of poor chaps, with all their lives before them, shovelled together, already half forgotten; it was a miracle. Here he was walking across London to say to Clarissa in so many words that he loved her»

- Mrs Dalloway, Virginia Woolf

"boy, we made such a mess together"

Digamos que o Sufjan Stevens é um pedacinho de céu e que me deu uma das melhores noite da minha vida.

A  noite de terça foi qualquer coisa de transcendente. A experiência de uma vida.

Os balões! Estar a uns cinco metros dele o tempo todo. O sussurar da Futile Devices, os dance moves oh tão lindos do Sufjan (eu tenho de aprender a dançar com ele pah), o aperceber-me que a sua música é igualmente yummi, o levitar da Seven Swans, a brutalidade da Impossible Soul, o estar mesmo em frente do moço quando ele me sobe para a coluna, o dançar muito descoordenadamente na festa que foi a Impossible Soul, a surpresa da Casimir Pulaski Day, o tocar-lhe com a ponta dos dedos da mão direita quando ele veio cá abaixo devolver os balões para a plateia. Os dois balões que vieram comigo para casa. A epicidade da Chicago.

BALÕES! Ele ouviu os meus pedidos e resolveu dar-me um miminho para os meus anos, não foi?

DM Stith na primeira parte. O moço faz parte da banda do Sufjan e fez-me lembrar TANTO os yearly years do Dylan, especialmente aqui. "Tell me when it's over, tell me when it's over, tell me when it's over"

Eu quero voar contigo... "seven swans, seven swans, sevens swans"

A dança... oh meu deus a dança!

O Coliseu tem qualquer coisa contra as minhas máquinas fotográficas. Aquando os The Walkmen a dita espatifou-se toda e foi à vida, desta feita ficou sem bateria logo no início. Bah.

A beleza da Casimir Pulaski Day.

E a noite acabou assim, com o gritar a Chicago a plenos pulmões.

"I fell in love again. All things go... all things go."

ÉPICO!

E quem é que vai passar a noite de terça com este menino?

Estava a ver que não, mas lá se concentraram as forças para pedir a prenda de anos antecipada. Mãe querida, mãe queriiiiida! Ah! a segunda parte da prenda* é a respectiva camisola do concerto, evidentemente.

E vai ser tão bom. Desconfio que Diana Catarina vai falecer várias e repetidas vezes durante a noite. Com isto... E com todas as coisinhas boas que ele tem guardado só para mim, não é Sufjan? Pedir a Springfield, or Bobby got a shadfly caught in his hair e a Sister Winter (mesmo que estejamos em Maio) já é de mais, não? Mas Sufjan... meu amor... se me fizeres o favor, oui?

_________________________________________

*e para quem diz que eu sou muita esquista com as prendas... eu gosto de balões, por exemplo. Daqueles assim fofinhos...

"All the loose ends would surround me again in the shape of your face

What makes me love you despite the reservations?

What do I see in your eyes besides my reflection hanging high?"

Estás a ver tu e eu? É isto

Mas tu voltas, sempre.

"I step too close to your boundaries

You wanted nobody around to see

You feel vulnerable around me

Hey baby

What is love?

It was just a game

We both played and we can't get enough of"

E esqueci-me de te dizer

And then her heart looked at him, smiled, realized: 

"Now, it's over. I'm over you. Out of love and indivisible. And happy."

"hello again. I've buried you, where have you been?"

"go easy on me.

I can't help what I'm doing"

"it's just that sometimes time's so slow"

"I don't wanna believe or be in love

I don't wanna be, believe in love"

Juro

I saw your picture hangin' on the back of my door

won't give you my heart

no one lives there anymore

and we were lovers

now we can't be friends

fascination ends

here we go again

cause it's cold outside, when you coming home

cause it's hot inside, isn't that enough

I'm not in love

(...)

A noite perfeita

Permanece a euforia e a felicidade. Agora que começo a desconstruir o que foi The Walkmen ao vivo a tocar o album para esta cidade feito, começo a aperceber-me do quão a noite de ontem foi brutal. The Walkmen ao vivo é qualquer coisa, depois numa cidade que tão bem sabe acolher e numa das salas mais bonitas de Lisboa então, foi qualquer coisa de transcendente. Foi lindo! Épico! Mais que épico, foi algo que só consigo expressar por sons e um sorriso na cara cheio de contentamento e felicidade. Lindo! Além de que já posso riscar mais uma coisinha da lista de afazeres lá em baixo. Lindo! Lindo! Lindo! Brutal!

Pena ter sido tão curto e o facto de eu ter espatifado a máquina fotográfica logo no início. Fotos só tirei d'Os Golpes, que fizeram uma primeira parte intocável, e do momento nerd e altamente embaraçoso de tirar uma foto ao lado do cartaz. Mas pronto, foi da maneira que me concentrei apenas em viver cada momento da noite.  Foi mesmo muito bom.

E graças à feliz lembrança de ter voltado para trás e comprado o pin d'Os Golpes -"Há um rio Tejo entre o sexo e o nexo e o amor"- tenho agora o meu bilhete autografado por eles. O que é assim algo de completamente surreal.

Foi uma noite perfeita, até porque a Lisbon em Lisboa foi assim...

"we made this song for you"

e eu agradeço.

And then her heart sadly understood and yearned:

"It's been oh so long, but my heart still get stirred at a glimpse of your name somewhere"

Meu!

Olha que coisa mais linda, mais cheia de graça que eu já tenho em mãos.

Lisbon em Lisboa vai ser épico.
Vai ser o primeiro concerto a que vou sozinha, visto que não há margem-sulistas queridos e fofinhos que queiram ir comigo. É a minha triste sina e a esta altura habituada estou. Além de que já sou moça crescida, não é verdade?  

E se for alguma coisa como o SBSR vai ser brutal. 34 dias é tudo o que tenho de esperar para os rever.

E já disse que vai ser épico? É que vai mesmo. Vai haver disto e muito mais.

I'd give you all my love

I'd give you all my love

But my heart is broken

...

"Words are futile devices"

it's been a long long time since i've memorized your face

it's been four hours now since i've wandered through your place

and when i sleep on your couch i feel very safe

and when you bring the blankets i cover up my face

i do

love you

i do

love you

and when you play guitar i listen to the strings buzz

the metal vibrates underneath your fingers

and when you crochet i feel mesmerized and proud

and i would say i love you but saying out loud is hard

so i won't say it at all

and i won't stay very long

but you are the life i needed all along

i think of you as my brother

although that sounds dumb

words are futile devices

And I will love to see that day. That day is mine.

Quem me disse que esta música era perfeita para o dia do matrimónio tem, realmente, toda a razão... Estou com ela na cabeça desde então.

Mas quando ela for tocada à entrada da igreja vai ser porque encontramos mesmo alguém que a mereça ouvir e, acima de tudo, que a mereça ouvir connosco. E um dia tal pessoa, igualmente fã de Beirut claro, há-de aparecer.

...

And I will love to see that day

That day is mine

When she will marry me outside with the willow trees

And play the songs we made

They made me so

And I would love to see that day

Her day was mine