Issuu

MANUAL DO COMPOSITOR

Glauco Mattoso

MANUAL DO COMPOSITOR

Casa de Ferreiro São Paulo

Manual do compositor © Glauco Mattoso, 2026 Editoração, Diagramação e Revisão Lucio Medeiros Capa Concepção: Glauco Mattoso Execução: Lucio Medeiros Fotografia: Akira Nishimura Dados Internacionais de Catalogação na Publicação (CIP) Mattoso, Glauco MANUAL DO COMPOSITOR / Glauco Mattoso. –– Brasil : Casa de Ferreiro, 2026. 178 Páginas 1.Poesia Brasileira I. Título. 25-1293

CDD B869.1 Índices para catálogo sistemático: 1. Poesia brasileira

NOTA INTRODUCTORIA Meu romance autobiographico levou o titulo de MANUAL DO PODOLATRA AMADOR e o subtitulo de ADVENTURAS E LEITURAS DE UM TARADO POR PÉS, trocadilhando a autoadjuda com a podolatria. O termo “manual” só voltou a me occorrer quando intitulei como MANUAL DE ETHIQUETA uma collectanea thematica envolvendo poemas sobre boas e más maneiras. Mais recentemente, com o aggravamento do quadro glycemico, decidi ironizar o dilemma de quem se priva (ou não) dos doces baptizando outra collectanea como MANUAL DO DIABETICO. Desde então, a partir de 2025, venho baptizando e rebaptizando diversas anthologias como “manuaes”, entre as quaes MANUAL DO ELEITOR, MANUAL DO TORCEDOR ou MANUAL DO TORTURADOR, seja à guisa de satyra civica, seja de ironia humanistica, seja de parodia therapeutica. No caso do MANUAL DO PECCADOR, por exemplo, o motte se restringe à palavra-chave “peccado” e, no caso presente, às expressões poeticas envolvendo o cancioneiro (particularmente rockeiro) gyram em torno de accepções lusophonas e anglophonas que poderiam ser designadas como “lettras lyricas”, ou seja, minha poesia funccionando como glosa para composições alheias. Eventuaes imprecisões nas lettras originaes terão que ser debitadas às fontes internauticas, naturalmente. Esta especie de laboratorio estichologico se somma a tantos outros titulos thematicos que venho publicando para accommodar parcellas duma producção muito vasta, comprehendendo sonnettos, sonnettilhos, dissonnettos, mottes glosados, madrigaes, odes, trovas, infinitilhos e demais generos. Aqui, differentemente dos quattorze versos do sonnetto, os dezeseis ou mais do dissonnetto estão monostrophados. Eis que o leitor disporá de innumeras abbordagens, entre forma e fundo, a fim de attender a quaesquer exspectativas. Só não sei si attenderei a todos os criterios qualitativos, sempre subjectivos e questionaveis. Isto, porem, não me pertence, mas ao publico, inclusive academico.

DISSONNETTO PARA O GRUPPO GRIEVANCE COMMITTEE [2181] A banda americana era incorrecta. Em seu vinyl, cruel prazer denota naquella canção-titulo que affecta a todos que escutaram: “Lamba a bota!” A turma chuta um cara e lhe decreta que, sendo indesejavel, pague a quota fatal de humilhação: elle projecta a lingua para fora e ouve a chacota! Seria aquelle disco o meu chodó. Na cappa, a photo em close: a lingua rubra trabalha sob a sola, até que cubra seus sulcos com saliva e limpe o pó. Me vejo performando o tal totó. Paresce dirigida, a lettra abjecta, a algum pornô podolatra: o poeta, na certa o mais pisado, alli, sem dó.

LICK THE BOOT (Grievance Committee) You’re walking up and down the block people talk about your sanity You got nothing to say for yourself cuz it runs in the family - hey You’re just an arse and swine you aint no friend of mine we only kick you around cuz we do it for the fun You’re crawling across the floor I know what you’re after and then ya, stick out your juicy little tongue Lick the Boot You’re sister’s losing patches of hair and your Mom’s doing one to three Your brother fuck’s dogs for crack and your dad’s eating dinky-dee Lick the Boot you’re just an arse and swine you aint no friend of my we only keep you around cuz we do it for the fun You’re crawling across the floor I know you want some more and then ya, stick out your juicy little tongue and lick the boot- hey!

DISSONNETTO PARA O GRUPPO THE MACC LADS [2380] Não curto disco ao vivo, mas a banda dos bebados pornôs foi excepção. Inglezes, Macclesfield é de onde são, cidade da qual fazem propaganda. Difficil calcular a quantas anda seu nivel de machismo, mas eu não duvido, em meio a tanto palavrão, que alli só quem for homem é que manda. Cerveja, frictas, molho, alem do sexo, é tudo quanto, em tom desaffinado, os caras cantam, dando à coisa um nexo. Rapazes uffanistas, seu recado gaiato e fanfarrão é mais complexo que mero desabbafo revoltado. Quem ama a bocca suja até perplexo ficou com tanta audacia nesse brado.

BEER & SEX & CHIPS’N GRAVY [8826] Batata fricta fica bem com molho, ainda mais comida com amigos em volta duma mesa de boteco. Alli varios rapazes contam suas vantagens com garotas que, difficeis ou faceis, ja comidas todas foram. Que falta para achar tal ambiente mais ludico e hedonista alguem, Glaucão? Sim, para completar essa alegria, tomar elles preferem a cerveja mais typica naquelle pub inglez! Você ja me explicou, Glauco, que não ficou nunca à vontade em tal rodinha… Mas pense na cerveja! Algum logar na certa sobraria para alguem que queira abrir o jogo, offerescer-se a algum desses marmanjos botinudos! Percebo que você não se convence nem quero convencel-o. Não se exquesça, porem, que esses Macc Lads teem canção fallando que curtiram fellação, deixando-nos na duvida si foi a bocca de mulher ou masculina. Ah, bom! Si fosse vinho, cê topava brindar com molecada assim? Entendo.

BEER & SEX & CHIPS ‘N’ GRAVY (The Macc Lads) Cleaned my teeth, put on my best clobber, Tonight’s the night I’m going to knob her Vauxhall Viva’s covered in rust, But you can’t shag a bird on a 29 bus Beer and sex and chips and gravy, its all a Macc Lad wants Beer and sex and chips and gravy, and a tasty bit of clump Get up off the floor, finish your chips, we’re going to sup [some more Pulled the bird down the Fox & Grapes Game of darts and a lot of beer “Can you hold your liquor (licker) love?” “Yes I can, always by the ears.” Treat your women like toilets They’re happy when you’re abusing them But toilets don’t follow you round when you’ve finished [using them

DISSONNETTO PARA O GRUPPO THE VIBRATORS [2428] Preciso duma escrava! De hoje à noite não passa! Saio e pego uma garota, deixando clara a minha mais marota e sadica intenção: baixar o açoite! Para que meu instincto não se ammoite, as regras dou do jogo: lamba a bota e chupe meu pau, antes que na chota eu goze! Não se affobe nem se affoite! Assim discursa o punk, exclarescido accerca do que a scena propicia, em Londres, quando é soffrega a libido e transa a molecada sem phobia. A taes papeis eu sempre me convido. A banda, que accelera a melodia, na cama quer ver lento e divertido supplicio, num tesão que a delicia.

I NEED A SLAVE (The Vibrators) Well I’m getting hung up, With all this hangin’ around. I’m gettin’ tied up, When I wanna be tyin’ it down. It always goes wrong, Can’t seem to get it right. Yeah come on girl, I need a slave tonight. I need a slave tonight Well I’m gettin’ freaked out, With all this hangin’ about. I’m lookin’ for some action, Can’t seem to get no connection. Put some chains on you honey, I’m gonna pull ‘em up real tight. Yeah c’mon child, I need a slave tonight. Well all your bondage magazines, They’re gettin’ me frustrated. Come on girl, I wanna see you naked.

DISSONNETTO PARA O GRUPPO THE KINKS [2481] Chronistas mais britannicos não ha. Até um beatlemaníaco o chapéu lhes tira, pois Ray Davies deixa ao léu quem queira ser da Corte a fada má. Criticam o burguez que às compras va, o nobre decadente, e fazem réu do cidadão moderno. Um escarcéu maior deu-se ao levarem Lola la. Fallar de travestismo, nos sessenta, ainda era tabu: nem os Estones ousaram isso a serio. A coisa é lenta. Ferinos, debochados, foram clones do rico ao pobretão. Na pachorrenta terrinha, os sanctarrões estão insomnes. De Kinkos vou, até quando rallenta, até quando está baixo o som dos phones.

LOLA (The Kinks) I met her in a club down in old Soho Where you drink champagne and it tastes just like coca cola C-O-L-A Cola She walked up to me and she asked me to dance I asked her her name and in a dark brown voice she said Lola L-O-L-A Lola Lo lo lo lo Lola Well, I’m not the world’s most physical guy But when she squeezed me tight she nearly broke my spine Oh my Lola, lo-lo-lo-lo Lola Well, I’m not dumb but I can’t understand Why she walked like a woman but talked like a man Oh my Lola, lo-lo-lo-lo Lola Lo-lo-lo-lo Lola Well, we drank champagne and danced all night Under electric candle light She picked me up and sat me on her knee And said “dear boy, won’t you come home with me?” Well, I’m not the world’s most passionate guy, But when I looked in her eyes, well I almost fell for my Lola Lo lo lo lo Lola Lo lo lo lo Lola Lola, lo lo lo lo Lola Lo lo lo lo Lola I pushed her away I walked to the door I fell to the floor I got down on my knees Then I looked at her and she at me Well, that’s the way that I want it to stay And I always want it to be that way for my Lola

La-la-la-la Lola Girl will be boys and boys will be girls It’s a mixed up muddled up shook up world except for [Lola La-la-la-la Lola Well, I left home just a week before And I’d never ever kissed a woman before But lola smiled and took me by the hand And said “dear boy, I’m gonna make you a man” Well, I’m not the world’s most masculine man But I know what I am and I’m glad that I’m a man and so is Lola Lo lo lo lo Lola Lo lo lo lo Lola Lola, lo lo lo lo Lola Lo lo lo lo Lola Lola, lo lo lo lo Lola Lo lo lo lo Lola Lola, lo lo lo lo Lola Lo lo lo lo Lola

DISSONNETTO PARA O GRUPPO ROSE TATTOO [2490] Pauleira ou choradeira? Eu sou da gangue do pau, “one of the boys”, como se diz. Quem foi, recentemente, mais feliz na trilha do rockão deu mesmo o sangue. Não só na tattuagem: quem ballangue na cara delle o relho e de apprendiz de escravo o chame, excappa por um triz da sua faca, caso elle se zangue. Si foi chicoteado, accorrentado e teve que aguentar um capataz, é claro que o tal “Angry” é revoltado e a voz, nessa canção, será veraz. Em “branded” é o sadismo requinctado. Um preso de animal assim se faz: o rude tractamento o põe ao lado dos que pagam tributo a Satanaz.

BRANDED [6299] Usou o prisioneiro uma cangalha, que alguns estão chamando de gollilha. A argolla no pescoço mais humilha aquelle que incidiu em grave falha. Num campo o condemnado ja trabalha forçado, sob açoite, e ja se pilha rebelde e rancoroso. Os dentes rilha de raiva a cada golpe que lhe valha. “Tiraram de mim tudo! O meu orgulho, a minha dignidade! Fui forçado, debaixo de lambadas, o solado das botas a lamber! Ah, tive engulho! Mas quero me vingar! Farei barulho, com minha banda, para que esse lado rockeiro ouvido seja! Revoltado sou! Nunca a rir eu canto! Não empulho!”

BRANDED (Rose Tattoo) Did you know I was a danger Did you know I was a threat I might even be a killer But they ain’t pushed me that far yet I’ve been branded, branded I wear the mark of the slave on my head Branded, branded I know the feeling of the yoke on my neck Branded, branded I bear the scars of the lash on my back Branded, branded I’ve had enough and now I’m gonna fight back Gonna fight back Did you know I was a rebel Yes I’ve always been one out And though they tried so hard to kill me You will always hear me shout I’ve been branded, branded I wear the mark of the slave on my head Branded, branded I know the feeling of the yoke on my neck Branded, branded I bear the scars of the lash on my back Branded, branded I’ve had enough and now I’m gonna fight back Because I need to fight back Yes fight back Did you know I was a danger Did you know I was a threat I might even be a killer But they ain’t pushed me that far yet Did you know I was a rebel

Yes I’ve always been one out And though they tried so hard to kill me You will always hear me shout ‘Cause I’ve been branded, branded I wear the mark of the slave on my head Branded, branded I know the feeling of the yoke on my neck Branded, branded I bear the scars of the lash on my back Branded, branded I’ve had enough, I’m gonna fight back I’m gonna fight back Yes, ‘cause they branded me They hunted me like an animal They branded me a slave They invaded my home They put a yoke around my neck They made me work they beat me Like an animal They made me, they made me want to kill Just to be free They beat me, they took away my freedom They took away my dignity They tried to destroy my soul by breakin’ my heart They tried to change what I believed By breakin’ my very will to live Drove me, they hounded me I was beaten, I was driven I was thrown in jail for the things that I said I got a million thoughts runnin’ in my head I got a million words, that my mouth has just got to say I gotta speak out, I gotta speak out I’m gonna reach out and touch your heart Before they tear us, tear us apart I gotta tell you about the lies I think I know why you cry

DISSONNETTO PARA O GRUPPO DO LOU REED [2495] De Sade muita banda se diz cega devota, mas Masoch inspiraria, tambem, um verbetão na anthologia: o Velvet Underground, que ja se entrega. Na Venus que domina, o gruppo pega o thema, bem na linha que se allia à tara, à perversão. Um bello dia, no punk encontraria seu collega. Lou Reed antecipou, bem frio e secco, aquillo que na decada seguinte a gente toparia em cada becco. Agora a gente escuta sem accincte. Não quero nem saber si infrinjo ou pecco! Tortura exige technica e requincte: bom rock escuto emquanto aqui defeco, suppondo alguem que eu pise, surre e cincte.

VENUS IN FURS (Velvet Underground) Shiny, shiny, shiny boots of leather Whiplash girl child in the dark Comes in bells, your servant, don’t forsake him Strike, dear mistress, and cure his heart Downy sins of streetlight fancies Chase the costumes she shall wear Ermine furs adorn the imperious Severin, Severin awaits you there I am tired, I am weary I could sleep for a thousand years A thousand dreams that would awake me Different colors made of tears Kiss the boot of shiny, shiny leather Shiny leather in the dark Tongue of thongs, the belt that does await you Strike, dear mistress, and cure his heart Severin, Severin, speak so slightly Severin, down on your bended knee Taste the whip, in love not given lightly Taste the whip, now bleed for me I am tired, I am weary I could sleep for a thousand years A thousand dreams that would awake me Different colors made of tears Shiny, shiny, shiny boots of leather Whiplash girl child in the dark Severin, your servant comes in bells, please don’t forsake him Strike, dear mistress, and cure his heart

FLAGRANTES FRAGRANCIAS [3108] Quando é que Beto, o Gordo, desconfia que aquelle seu chulé ninguem aguenta? Sentir um fedor desses pela venta não dá, nem p’ra allegar podolatria! Cheirar gaz venenoso até seria melhor, menos mortifero! A nojenta e grossa meia, aquelles tennis… Tempta o Beto um só podolatra, hoje em dia. Si fede, ‘inda calçado, o seu Rainha ou Nike, então calculem o que não será quando o tirar! Quem adivinha? Só mesmo eu para dar-lhe esse tesão! Quem mais tal phantasia ainda tinha? Ja sei: vocês pensaram que o Gordão não passa de mais uma idéa minha! Erraram: dos Toy Dolls isso é canção!

FAT BOB’S FEET (Toy Dolls) Fat Bob does not wash or scrub He’s never seen a bath tub before When will Fat Bob use the sink? We can’t face the Fat Bob stink no more! A killer pong on a gateshead street 50 drop deady… Bobby Bobby Quick quick quick it’s Fat Bob’s feet There’s nowt more deadly. Fat Bob’s not cleaned his socks yet He’s not been to the launderette before Spray Fat Bob’s feet with fungicide He’s wiped out two thirds of tyneside or more Tyne & Wear have got the blues The end is nigh on the Look North news Fat Bob’s taken off his shoooes It only takes one wiff.

ENQUETE PARA BOQUETTE [4007] Melhor quem me chupou não foi Julieta. Na rolla fui mammado pela Ro, mais funda que a garganta mais pornô, que tudo engole! Aquillo é que é chupeta! Deleito-me, pois, antes que ella metta na bocca a picca, a lingua faz tricô por toda a chapelleta! Nem cocô fedido é que nem essa oral sargeta! Sebinho saboreia feito um queijo ricotta em cannellone! Ella lambeu a glande como alguem roubando um beijo! Mulher ou travesti, ja nem sei eu! Preenche esse buraco o meu desejo! Seu halito um mictorio vence! Em seu gogó meu sacco cabe e eu só festejo! Ninguem melhor me chupa que Ro, meu!

FELLATIO NEL, SON (The Macc Lads) Let me tell you about the worst blow job I ever had, (It was alright, actually, it wasn’t that bad) If you just want the smeg licking off your bell end There’s a tart in Lancashire I’ll recommend She’ll do it in the pub, you don’t have to go to bed She’ll even put a beer towel on top of her head And get a round in if you keep her well fed Fellatio Nell, son, you won’t like the smell, son Gangrene and death come across in her breath, Fellatio [Nell, son. I was watching the final on the TV, When the smell of a urinal wafted over to me I thought of open sewers and unflushed bogs, But the smell of manure was coming out of her gob Nobody’s snogged her since ‘71 Coz her gob’s always full of somebody’s come And there’s seven types of dick cheese under her tongue Fellatio Nell, son, you won’t like the smell, son She’ll gobble up your scrote and fit it down her throat, Fellatio Nell, son. Running sores round her cakehole, but I took the chance You can’t see her face when its in your underpants She’s swallowed more foreskins than a Yid doctor’s [bucket She sees a bulging crotch, she just has to suck it Fellatio Nell, son. You won’t like the smell, son She can suck your bollock through the hole in your cock, Fellatio Nell, son. She can drool on your tool faster than blinking She won’t even mind if you carry on drinking

She’ll even put a beer towel on top of her head And get a round in if you keep her well fed Nobody’s snogged her since ‘72, Her gob’s always full of somebody’s tool Fuck off down the chemists get some listerine Your breath smells like the creature from the black latrine She’ll clean out your Jap’s eye with the tip of her tongue Eat the worms round your warhead if you’re very well hung Her face is always buried in somebody’s flies But she had to take her teeth out to accomodate my size.

OITAVA GEMMA DO CINEMA [4064] Ainda de Ken Russell é a versão de “Tommy” para as telas. Nella, o cego, que nada diz nem ouve, aguenta o prego da cruz aos pés dum primo folgadão. Deixaram-no os adultos bem na mão de Kevin, o priminho que tem ego de sadico e nazista: “Agora eu pego você! Vamos brincar! Que diversão!” E o primo se approveita da cegueira de Tommy: o faz de gatto e de sapato, practica nelle tudo quanto queira. A scena mostra a cara do cordato ceguinho entre dois pés que a costumeira botina calçam: close em poncto exacto. Cheguei, ao ver a scena, bem na beira do orgasmo. Reprisei, depois, tal acto.

COUSIN KEVIN (The Who) We’re on our own, cousin All alone, cousin Let’s think of a game to play Now the grown-ups have all gone away You won’t be much fun Being blind, deaf and dumb But I’ve no-one to play with today Do you know how to play hide-and-seek? To find me it would take you a week But tied to that chair You won’t go anywhere There’s a lot I can do with a freak How would you feel if I turned on the bath Ducked your head under and started to laugh? What would you do if I shut you outside To stand in the rain and catch cold so you died? I’m the school bully! The classroom cheat The nastiest playfriend You ever could meet I’ll stick pins in your fingers And tread on your feet We’re on our own, cousin All alone, cousin Let’s think of a game to play Now the grown-ups have all gone away You won’t be much fun Being blind, deaf and dumb But I’ve no-one to play with today Do you know how to play hide-and-seek? To find me it would take you a week But tied to that chair You won’t go anywhere There’s a lot I can do with a freak

Maybe a cigarette burn on your arm Would change your expression to one of alarm I’ll drag you around by a lock of your hair Or give you a push at the top of the stairs I’m the school bully! The classroom cheat The nastiest playfriend You ever could meet I’ll put glass in your dinner And spikes in your seat

ALTO ASTRAL [4741] Coitado do mendigo! Offende o faro! Fedendo, exguedelhado, barba suja, ninguem em sordidez o sobrepuja naquelle quarteirão, nem rico avaro! Então chega um gaiato e diz: “Meu caro, assim parado ahi, você enferruja! Encare a situação! Vamos, não fuja!” E o gajo lhe suggere o motte ignaro: “Você vestindo azul, a sorte muda! Coragem, mano! Vamos la, se troque! Precisa dar à vida novo enfoque! Sorria! Mude a cara carrancuda!” Sem forças, o coitado accusa o choque, mas fica quieto. O instincto diz: “Caluda!” Mantem no bolso a mão, a lingua muda. Ainda o boyzão acha quem o soque!

DESGRAÇA EM MASSA [7070] De rua moradores, Glauco, vão aos poucos augmentando na cidade! Não, nada addeantar vae! Nem pôr grade, nem muro, nem levar para a prisão! Ficamos nós, sim, presos, pois eu não consigo mais sahir! Um bando invade a praça aqui detraz, fica à vontade mijando, defecando no portão! Aquella multidão de zumbis ‘inda irá tudo occupar, caro poeta! Por elles por que tanto ‘ocê se affecta? É gente desprezivel e malvinda! Sim, tenho medo, claro, de que, finda a minha profissão, seja concreta a chance de, eu tambem, ser um proleta a menos e integrar essa berlinda!

HOBO’S LULLABY (Goebel Reeves, gravado por Arlo Guthrie) Go to sleep you weary hobo Let the towns drift slowly by Can’t you hear the steel rails hummin’ That’s the hobo’s lullaby I know your clothes are torn and ragged And your hair is turning gray Lift your head and smile at trouble You’ll find peace and rest someday Now don’t you worry ‘bout tomorrow Let tomorrow come and go Tonight you’re in a nice warm boxcar Safe from all that wind and snow I know the police cause you trouble They cause trouble everywhere But when you die and go to Heaven You’ll find no policemen there So go to sleep you weary hobo Let the towns drift slowly by Listen to the steel rails hummin’ That’s a hobo’s lullaby

COM ASESINO ME AFFINO [4972] Transar com animaes, por si, não faz meu genero. Um amigo, porem, diz que um genero de rock é bem feliz naquillo a que submettem um rapaz. As lettras do “deathgrind” são, às más e barbaras posturas, juvenis appellos. Numa dellas, alguem quiz licção dar num traveco e foi mordaz. Mantido em captiveiro juncto ao cão do gajo que compoz, a trava tem que até comer do bicho a refeição! O cão come primeiro. Depois vem o escravo, que até lambe o cu, o colhão e o pau desse cachorro, sem porem! Dá gosto ouvir as ordens dum mandão, suppor que fosse cego o seu refem…

PUTA CON PITO! (Asesino) Quince años en el bote Chingando jotos con garrote Escapo, ahora soy libre A lo duro, hay que servir le Una boca bonita hal rededor Mi verga ardiente, dejarle sabor Pistiando por las cantinas Borracho, condón a la lista Le caigo a una piruja Me dice que es prostituta Mamadas por veinte, culo por cien Me vale, mis mecos vas a comer Andale, aquí tienes. Andale puta. ¡Chupa! Hay, que buena mamada. Quitate la falda, deja me ver ese culo. ¿Que’s esto? ¡Es una verga! Pinche jogo engañoso Te voy a meter en un poso Por vestirte como vieja Te mocho los huevos y verga Sangrando, llorando, castrado estas Te quito la feria y la peluca ¡Muerto! A mis pies cai este guey. ¡Corriendo! La chota me busca otra vez. Patras en el bote, caigo otra vez Por vida estoy sin panocha coger Pinche jogo engañoso era puta con un ¡pito!

PERRO PRIMERO (Asesino) Pinche guey, el tonto, esclavo Limpia le, el culo al perro No llores, has lo que te mando Lengua le, hasta que este limpio Pendejo, esclavo, cabezón Cuando hay para tragar Va el perro primero Cuando toca a cagar Va el perro primero Hay cama para dormir Va el perro primero Nunca te dejare ir Va el perro primero Masa sta, entre tus orejas Por mamón, mi perro chuparas El suelo es donde dormirás Mi placer, oír tus lagrimas No saldrás, aquí estás, siempre más Por siempre cabrón Por siempre mamón Por siempre serás pendejo Vales menos que mi perro Cuando hay para tragar Cuando toca a la cagar Hay lineas pa esnifar Va el perro primero Hay puta para chingar Va el perro primero Al perro hay que servir

Va el perro primero Nunca te dejare ir Va el perro primero

AND THE SUN WILL SHINE [5622] Não nasce o sol por minha causa, não scintillam as estrellas pelo canto dalgum poeta à sua amada. Não percebo si da noite cae o manto. A chuva não cahiu por mim só, não. Cahiu porque rezou para algum sancto o pobre lavrador. Porem eu não me importo caso caia, nem me expanto. O clima, ao trovador, varia appenas conforme seus humores. Chove, sim, por sua causa. Aquellas lindas scenas romanticas são todas delle, sim. As coisas não são grandes ou pequenas só quando o sol raiou. São, isso sim, pequenas alegrias, grandes penas. Poetas mais valor lhes dão? Pois sim!

AND THE SUN WILL SHINE (Bee Gees, na voz de José Feliciano) And the rain will fall, it falls for you And the clouds will break into tears You should be here standing so near to me ‘Cept I know you should be sad But give me time alone to get it out of my mind Though say I know it’s only the weather ‘Cause ev’ry time it rains you are gone And I’m blue Then I wake up, then I wake up And the sun will shine if just for you And the trees will talk to the skies, whispering lies Heaven will pass to me, yeah Trains walk by and the birds disappear Oh! Why am I still here without you by my side So I cry your name and love The thought to me is back and how near Then I wake up, then I grow up And the rain will fall It falls for you And the clouds will break It should be near And the sun will shine If just for you And the love

END OF THE WORLD [5684] Demis Roussos cantava que queria levar ao fim do mundo o namorado ainda muito joven, sem do lado tambem papae, mamãe, vovó, tithia. Queria appresental-o, qualquer dia, a amigos solteirões que do riscado com elle se entendiam, mas cuidado tomava, pois nem tudo se entendia. Vontade de gritar elle revela e grita, sem conter-se, assim, do nada, no meio da romantica ballada, talvez porque o moleque se rebella. Terei bem entendido sua bella canção, tão bem chorada, bem cantada? Fiz minha tal leitura. Agora cada um faça a sua, solte da goela.

END OF THE WORLD (Aphrodite’s Child) You should come with me to the end of the world Without telling your parents and your friends You know that you only need To say the word so end my play with thy End of the world What I know That I’ll go away by myself I feel you don’t want to come You should come with me to the end of the world We could lay all day on the quiet sands I would introduce you to my friend the bird Who sings and flies along the fairy [trend] But I know That I’ll go away by myself I feel you don’t want to come If you come with me to the end of the world I’ll give you anything that lives on earth You know that you only need To say the word so end my play with thy End of the world What I know That I’ll go away by myself I feel you don’t want to come

WHEN A BLIND MAN CRIES [5703] O cego do Deep Purple, quando chora, dá dica de ter sido abbandonado, fechado no seu quarto, mas tal fado envolve o que meu caso corrobora. Um gajo, que era amigo, foi embora, mas fez com elle coisas que me enfado, até, de repetir, tendo versado bastante sobre alguem que rememora. Tambem, no chão jogado, rastejei aos pés dalgum “amigo” gozador que fez chacota sobre minha dor, impondo, por prazer, a sua lei. Um cego não será feito de gay nem deve ser de rollas chupador appenas por ser logico suppor, mas pelo testemunho que ja dei.

WHEN A BLIND MAN CRIES (Deep Purple) If you’re leaving close the door I’m not expecting people anymore Hear me grieving, I’m lying on the floor Whether I’m drunk or dead I really ain’t too sure I’m a blind man, I’m a blind man and my world is pale When a blind man cries, Lord, you know there ain’t no [sadder tale Had a friend once in a room Had a good time but it ended much too soon In a cold month in that room We found a reason for the things we had to do I’m a blind man, I’m a blind man, now my room is cold When a blind man cries, Lord, you know he feels it from his soul

ROCKEIRO PICCADEIRO [5878] Em vez de se mactar, quem para fora põe suas amarguras quer brincar: “Addeus, mundo cruel! Eu vou entrar pro circo! Vou virar palhaço, agora!” Palhaço? Ora, palhaço tambem chora! Mas muito mais num circo tem logar: trapezio, chorda bamba, malabar, leão que cabecinhas não devora… Que mais? Illusionismo, claro. Quem faz magicas garante seu futuro. O gajo não se macta, alli, no duro, appenas se degolla, sangue sem. Si for um bardo cego, para alem da morte, engole rolla, não por puro prazer, mas por fazer, com todo o appuro, seu comico papel, como convem.

GOODBYE CRUEL WORLD (James Darren) Oh, goodbye, cruel world, I’m off to join the circus Gonna be a broken-hearted clown Paint my face with a good-for-nothin’ smile ‘Cause a mean, fickle woman turned my whole world upside down Farewell to love, I’m off to join the circus Gotta find a way to hide my tears Bet I’ll have them rolling in the aisle And I’ll forget that woman if it takes a hundred years Oh, oh, oh, step right up and take a look at a fool He’s got a heart as stubborn as a mule C’mon, everybody, he’s good for a laugh And no one could tell his heart is broken in half Well, the joke’s on me; I’m off to join the circus Oh, Mr. Barnum, save a place for me Shoot me out of a cannon, I don’t care Let the people point at me and stare I’ll tell the world that woman, wherever she may be That mean, fickle woman made a cryin’ clown outta me Shoot me out of a cannon, I don’t care Let the people point at me and stare I’ll tell the world that woman, wherever she may be That mean, fickle woman made a cryin’ clown outta me Goodbye, cruel world Goodbye, cruel world Goodbye, cruel world Goodbye, cruel world

MEME DA INSOMNIA [5917] {Não paro de pensar, Glauco, durante a noite, nesse rock! Estou tambem soffrendo disso. O somno nunca vem e tento fazer coisa semelhante. Reviro o travesseiro. Quem garante que durmo? O cobertor, que culpa tem? Levanto. Tomo um banho. Vou alem e como, na cozinha, algo crocante. Voltando para a cama, não consigo pegar no somno! Um livro leve leio, que está de palavrões, como os seus, cheio. Masturbo-me. Gozei. Somno, não veiu…} -- Sossegue. Isso tambem se dá commigo. Ahi, resolvo logo: sapateio ao som dum rock experto. Só receio que, embaixo, diga alguem mais nome feio.

TOSSING AND TURNING (Ritchie Adams & Malou Rene, por Bobby Lewis) I couldn’t sleep at all last night Got to thinkin’ of you Baby things weren’t right Well I was tossin’ and turnin’ Turnin’ and tossin’ a-tossin’ and turnin’ all night I kicked the blankets on the floor Turned my pillow upside down I never never did before ‘cause I was tossin’ and turnin’ Turnin’ and tossin’ a-tossin’ and turnin’ all night Jumped out of bed Turned on the light I pulled down the shade Went to the kitchen for a bite Rolled up the shade Turned off the light I jumped back into bed It was the middle of the night The clock downstairs was strikin’ four Couldn’t get you off my mind I heard the milkman at the door ‘cause I was tossin’ and turnin’ Turnin’ and tossin’ a-tossin’ and turnin’ all night Jumped out of bed Turned on the light I pulled down the shade Went to the kitchen for a bite Rolled up the shade

Turned off the light I jumped back into bed It was the middle of the night The clock downstairs was strikin’ four Couldn’t get you off my mind I heard the milkman at the door ‘cause I was tossin’ and turnin’ Turnin’ and tossin’ a-tossin’ and turnin’ all, yay, yay, yay I was a-tossin’ and turnin’

WEIRD DISSONNET [5932] Segundo Norman Greenbaum, ser um hippie implica barbudinho ser, sujinho, supponho, no cabello ter um ninho de bichos que grillaram em equipe. Implica que o barbudo participe dum livre movimento que caminho procura, differente do mesquinho systema financeiro do boss VIP. Alem de detestar eschola, banho e roupa social, esse barbudo está sempre descalço, ou seja, tudo que pode interessar a um vate extranho. No fundo, exquisitão sou eu, que ganho a fama actualmente, ja que grudo nariz e bocca nesse pé desnudo que, para novos hipsters, é d’antanho.

WEIRD (Norman Greenbaum) I’m a little weird Wear a little beard Der din der din der der Weird I’m a little weird But wear a little beard Der Din der din der der Let’s talk about rules I don’t follow rules I don’t go to school and I don’t wear shoes I’m barefootin’ And lies Tell you bout all those lies You’re telling me lies You’re a bunch of flies for telling me lies But I’m weird Wear a little beard Let me tell you about my clothes I wear funny clothes They’re different from those who think they know And my hair Well I’ve got long hair And people stare and they know where Weird I’m a little weird Wear a little beard Yah I’m weird I’m a little weird Wear a little beard

MISCELLANEA DA PASSAGEM [6012] Na Terra a gente passa. Alguem se salva? Pensando no Neil Diamond, tambem faço a minha lista branca neste espaço. Mas fica a Terra, fica a Estrella d’Alva. Lamarca, Lampeão, Senna, Tancredo, Chacrinha, Tiradentes, Golbery, Golias, Calabar, Noel, Loredo, Dolores, Irman Dulce, Hebe, Dercy, Millor, Filinto Müller, Azevedo, Elis, Nara, Raul, Satan, Fleury, Getulio, Janio, Plinio, Figueiredo, Garrincha, Ary, Vavá, Jobim, Didi, Cazuza, Padim Ciço… cada, a dedo listado, de passagem por aqui, seu prazo consummou, mais tarde ou cedo. Inglorio ou não, meu tempo não perdi.

DONE TOO SOON (Neil Diamond) Jesus Christ, Fanny Brice Wolfie Mozart and Humphrey Bogart And Genghis Khan And on to H. G. Wells Ho Chi Minh, Gunga Din Henry Luce and John Wilkes Booth And Alexanders King and Graham Bell Ramar Krishna, Mama Whistler Patrice Lumumba and Russ Colombo Karl and Chico Marx Albert Camus, E. A. Poe, Henri Rousseau Sholom Aleichem and Caryl Chessman Alan Freed and Buster Keaton too And each one there Has one thing shared They have sweated beneath the same sun Looked up in wonder at the same moon And wept when it was all done For bein’ done too soon For bein’ done too soon For bein’ done

AMERICAN WOMAN [6073] Fallar mal da mulher virou tabu politico, mas algo que ser dicto precisa da mania de delicto que exsiste nesse mytho do “Me too”. Em vez de só mandar tomar no cu essas opportunistas, me limito a lhes dizer que escutem meu subscripto rock “American Woman” do Guess Who. Um homem ja não serve para aquella mulher que tudo entende ser “abuso”? Então ella que tente fazer uso dum cabo de vassoura, ou de panella! A dona só me accusa de mazella? Tambem eu de mazella agora a accuso! Ficamos empattados, eu deduzo, embora sendo eu feio, ou ella bella!

AMERICAN WOMAN (The Guess Who) Uh! American woman, stay away from me American woman, mama, let me be Don’t come a-hangin’ around my door I don’t wanna see your face no more I got more important things to do Than spend my time growin’ old with you Now woman, I said stay away American woman, listen what I say American woman, get away from me American woman, mama, let me be Don’t come a-knockin’ around my door Don’t wanna see your shadow no more Coloured lights can hypnotize Sparkle someone else’s eyes Now woman, I said get away American woman, listen what I say, hey American woman, said get away American woman, listen what I say Don’t come a-hangin’ around my door Don’t wanna see your face no more I don’t need your war machines I don’t need your ghetto scenes Coloured lights can hypnotize Sparkle someone else’s eyes Now woman, get away from me American woman, mama, let me be Go, gotta get away, gotta get away Now go go go I’m gonna leave you, woman Gonna leave you, woman Bye-bye

Bye-bye Bye-bye Bye-bye You’re no good for me I’m no good for you Gonna look you right in the eye Tell you what I’m gonna do You know I’m gonna leave You know I’m gonna go You know I’m gonna leave You know I’m gonna go, woman I’m gonna leave ya, woman Goodbye, American woman…

VAZIA PROPHECIA [6109] Preciso dum conselho seu, querido! Estou preoccupadissimo com essa noticia de que a Atlantida attravessa a sua maior crise! Faz sentido? A Atlantida affundar vae? Eu duvido! Boatos ouço, Glauco, agora à bessa! Fallei com Orichalco, que promessa me fez de desmentir tal allarido! Tambem Timeu me disse que isso é lenda! Não vamos affundar, coisa nenhuma! Mas caso você, Glauco, algo presuma, me diga! Versões falsas não defenda! O reino durará? Na minha agenda só faltam dez millennios para alguma catastrophe! Entrementes, se accostuma a gente? Que você me recommenda?

DIA DA ATLANTIDA [11.358] A Atlantida algum risco corre, caro propheta Glauco? Ouvi fallar que, em breve, em vez de num deserto ou numa neve, no fundo é que estaremos! Isso é claro? Consulto, ó mestre Glauco, o teu bom faro sabendo que és tu um bruxo que se attreve às lucidas visões e que ‘inda escreve teus textos, mesmo cego! És um ser raro! Fallei com Orichalco, com Timeu, mas elles desmentiram que esta terra um dia affundará! Quem não temeu? És, Glauco, quem mais pode ver quem erra em tantas previsões! Acho que teu olhar cravou: à toa alguem ja berra…

ATLANTIS (Donovan) The continent of Atlantis was an island Which lay before the great flood In the area we now call the Atlantic Ocean So great an area of land That from her western shores Those beautiful sailors journeyed To the South and the North Americas with ease In their ships with painted sails To them East Africa was a neighbour Across a short strait of sea miles The great Egyptian age is But a remnant of The Atlantian culture The antediluvian kings colonised the world All the Gods who play in the mythological dramas In all legends from all lands were from far Atlantis Knowing her fate Atlantis sent out ships to all corners of the Earth On board were the Twelve The poet, the physician, The farmer, the scientist The magician and the other so-called Gods of our legends Though Gods they were And as the elders of our time choose to remain blind Let us rejoice And let us sing And dance and ring in the new Hail Atlantis! Way down below the ocean where I wanna be she may be Way down below the ocean where I wanna be she may be Way down below the ocean where I wanna be she may be Way down below the ocean where I wanna be she may be Way down below the ocean where I wanna be she may be My antediluvian baby, oh yeah yeah, yeah yeah yeah I wanna see you some day My antediluvian baby, oh yeah yeah, yeah yeah yeah My antediluvian baby

My antediluvian baby, I love you, girl Girl, I wanna see you some day My antediluvian baby, oh yeah I wanna see you some day, oh My antediluvian baby My antediluvian baby, I wanna see you My antediluvian baby, gotta tell me where she gone I wanna see you some day Wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up Oh yeah, oh club club, down down, yeah My antediluvian baby, oh yeah yeah yeah yeah

YOU LOOK LIKE A GIRL [6168] Menino que tem cara de menina por causa do cabello bem comprido é caso que, em Barbarians, bem ouvido eu tinha, Glauco! O que você imagina? Em epocha de Beatles, a ferina linguinha do povão acha a libido suspeita si com gay é parescido qualquer moleque à toa alli na exquina. Agora ninguem liga si tem cara de fada -- até de puta -- algum pivete, pois quasi todo mundo faz boquette por gosto, ou quando a vida fica cara. Até você, Glaucão, que se compara ao torpe em cuja bocca alguem só mette caralho com sebinho, se remette a musicas mais sadicas na tara!

ARE YOU A BOY OR ARE YOU A GIRL? (The Barbarians) Are you a boy Or are you a girl With your long blonde hair You look like a girl (yeah) (You look like a girl) You may be a boy You look like a girl You’re either a girl Or you come from Liverpool (Yeah, Liverpool) You can dog like a female monkey But you swim like a stone (Yeah, a rolling stone) You may be a boy (hey) You look like a girl (hey) Hey You’re always wearing skin tight Pants and boys wear pants But in your skin tight pants You look like a girl (Yeah, you look like a girl) You may be a boy (hey) You look like a girl (hey) Are you a boy Or are you a girl With your long blonde hair You look like a girl (yeah) (You look like a girl)

You may be a boy (hey) You look like a girl Yeah, you look like a girl (hey) Yeah, you look like a girl (hey) Yeah, you look like a girl (hey) Yeah, you look like a girl (hey)

TEACH ME MASTER [6339] Me ensigna, vae, Glaucão, a ser mulher! Me ensigna a dar um beijo que tesão desperte, essa vontade de estar tão fogosa, fazer tudo o que puder! Me ensigna a ser saphada, num affair bem sadomasochista! Vae, Glaucão! Me ensigna! Não importa si paixão me tenhas! Te serei uma qualquer! Me ensigna a ser teu sordido capacho! Me ensigna a te lamber a suja bota! Me ensigna a ser humilde, ser devota! Te peço! Supplicante é que me aggacho! Não queres me ensignar? Sabes? Eu acho que és fracco de character, ja se nota! Me ensigna a ser mulher, ou tua quota te ensigno, ou te direi como ser macho!

TEACH ME TIGER (por April Stevens) Teach me tiger how to kiss you… wah wah wah wah wah Show me tiger how to kiss you… wah wah wah wah wah Take my lips, they belong to you! But teach me first, teach me what to do! Touch me tiger when I’m close to you… wah wah wah wah wah Help me tiger I don’t know what to do… wah wah wah wah wah I know that you could love me to! But show me first, show me what to do! This is the first love, that I have ever known! What must I do to make you my very own? Teach me tiger how to tease you… wah wah wah wah wah Tiger, tiger I wanna squeeze you… wah wah wah wah wah All of my love I will give to you! But teach me TIGER… or I’ll teach you! Tiger… Tiger… Tiger…

VACILLÃO [6341] Você fica fallando que se exgotta de tanto versejar e dar recado explicito de escravo dedicado. Agora vae lamber a minha bota! Você jura ser docil, mas adopta postura vacillante, sem ter dado um brilho de verdade em meu calçado. Agora vae lamber a minha bota! Você reconhesceu sua derropta e fica a lamentar-se por cegado estar, mas sente medo si sou sado. Agora vae lamber a minha bota! Você escutou a Nancy, ja se nota, mas nunca excappará de ser pisado. Eu calço bota para que, saphado? É para pisar, Glauco! Lamba a bota!

THESE BOOTS ARE MADE FOR WALKING (por Nancy Sinatra) (ver 0059) You keep saying you’ve got something for me Something you call love, but confess You’ve been messing where you shouldn’t have been messing And now someone else is getting all your best These boots are made for walking, and that’s just what [they’ll do One of these days these boots are gonna walk all over you You keep lying when you oughta be truthing And you keep losing when you oughta not bet You keep saming when you oughta be changing Now what’s right is right, but you ain’t been right yet These boots are made for walking, and that’s just what [they’ll do One of these days these boots are gonna walk all over you You keep playing where you couldn’t be playing And you keep thinking that you’ll never get burnt. Ha! I just found me a brand new box of matches, yeah And what he knows you ain’t had time to learn. These boots are made for walking, and that’s just what [they’ll do One of these days these boots are gonna walk all over you Are you ready boots? Start walking!

QUEDA NOS INDICES [6379] Não quero um macho ser noventa e nove e meio! Sou é cem por cento macho! Mulher eu faço mesmo de capacho! Que venha a que quizer que eu lhe comprove! E ja que no molhado sou quem chove, direi que sou um macho e meio! Eu acho que bichas levar devem esculacho, precisam é de alguem que as surre e sove! Eu ouço o Wilson Pickett, tá pensando o que, Glaucão? O soul é som de gente ligada na quebrada! Antigamente o povo obedescia ao meu commando! Mas hoje quem mais julga aqui no bando são ellas, as mulheres! Ninguem tente barral-as! Ellas mandam! Quem se sente menor sou eu: brochei, de vez em quando…

NINETY-NINE-AND-ONE-HALF (Wilson Pickett) I got to have all your love Both night and day, oh yeah Not just a little part, but all of your heart Oh yes, I do, child Ninety-nine and a half just won’t do No, ain’t gonna get it, no, no Don’t be led in the wrong direction (oh no) Start this thing, a man needs a little love and affection Oh yes, he do, child Ninety-nine and a half just won’t do (whoa) Just won’t get it (no, no) We got to bring it all down And start getting right, oh yes we do now, child Stop messin’ around And keep things up tight Oh, yeah We got to realize that ninety-nine and a half just [won’t do No, got to have a hundred, oh yeah Got to have a hundred (no) Ain’t no use in foolin’ ourselves, honey We ain’t gonna be able to get by on ninety-nine No, got to have a hundred Lord have mercy Just won’t do no Baby It just won’t do, now

MEMENTO HOMO [6422] Aqui, quer ser um homem capitão. Alli, quer ser um homem general. Alem, quer ser um homem, affinal, o rei no seu castello, uma ambição. Diz Loudon, bardo folk, esse que não é muito conhescido, mas é tal qual Dylan, que nós somos, em geral, fragillimos. Pouquissimos não são. Mas quer um capitão ver seu navio singrar, inabballavel, na tormenta. Quer ver um general, na violenta battalha, que jamais perdeu o brio. Si estou no meu castello, sim, confio que esteja, aqui, seguro. Mas quem tenta ser rei um dia passa dos septenta, oitenta… Ja tem medo. Sente frio.

MEN (Loudon Wainwright) When a ship is sinking and they lower the lifeboats And hand out the life jackets, the men keep on their coats The women and the children are the ones who must go first And the men who try to save their skins are cowards and [are cursed Every man’s a captain, men know how to drown Man the lifeboats if there’s room, otherwise go down And it’s the same when there’s a war on: it’s the men [who go to fight Women and children are civilians, when they’re killed [it’s not right Men kill men in uniform, its the way war goes When they run they’re cowards, when they stay they are heroes Every man’s a general, men go off to war The battlefields a man’s world, cannon fodders what [they’re for It’s the men who have the power, it’s the men who have [the might And the world’s a place of horror because each man [thinks he’s right A man’s home is his castle so the family let him in But what’s important in that kingdom is the women and [the children A husband and a father, every man’s a king But he’s really just a drone, gathers no honey, has no sting Have pity on the general, the king, and the captain They know they’re expendable, after all they’re men

PINK SUEDE SHOES [6465] Você pode fazer o que quizer commigo! Provocar-me! Eu nem reajo! De corno me xingar! Eu nem me ultrajo! Tractar-me com mais turra que à mulher! A mim se dirigir como ao choffer, ao boy, ao faxineiro, qualquer gajo mendigo, pobretão, que vista andrajo, que engula toda offensa que vier! Você pode fallar que de mim goza, até pode empurrar-me e, ja no chão me vendo, me prensar com um pisão na cara, com sorriso de quem posa! Na rua diffamar-me, todo prosa, chamando-me de verme e de seu cão! Só não pode pisar no meu lindão sapato de camurça cor de rosa!

CARO MASOCHISMO [6466] Eu acho que esse “cat” é, sim, michê! Faz tudo que quizer, mas, affinal, está sendo bem pago para tal! Quaes dicas a canção mais quer que dê? O cara abusar pode, você vê: até pode roubar carro, total preju causar à casa do bossal que se deixa pisar, como você! Sim, Glauco, o gajo joga alguem no chão, lhe pisa bem na cara, abusa à bessa, mas note que elle appenas está nessa jogada “for the money”, amigão! Assim é mais legal, hem? Não é não? Achei mais humilhante que lhe peça alguem p’ra ser pisado! O que interessa é para tal ser pago um dinheirão!

BLUE SUEDE SHOES (Carl Perkins) (ver 0059) [Chorus] Well, it’s one for the money Two for the show Three to get ready Now go, cat, go But don’t you step on my blue suede shoes You can do anything but lay off of my blue suede shoes [Verse 2] Well, you can knock me down Step in my face Slander my name All over the place Do anything that you want to do, but uh-uh Honey, lay off of my shoes Don’t you step on my blue suede shoes You can do anything but lay off of my blue suede shoes [Bridge] You can burn my house Steal my car Drink my liquor From an old fruitjar [Verse 3] Do anything that you want to do, but uh-uh Honey, lay off of my shoes Don’t you step on my blue suede shoes You can do anything but lay off of my blue suede shoes [Chorus] Well, it’s one for the money Two for the show Three to get ready Now go, cat, go But don’t you step on my blue suede shoes

You can do anything but lay off of my blue suede shoes Well it’s Blue-Blue Blue suede shoes Blue-Blue Blue suede shoes-Yeah Blue-Blue Blue suede shoes-Baby Blue-Blue Blue suede shoes You can do anything but lay off of my blue suede shoes

COISA QUALQUER [6504] Por ti, que és meu heroe, dou o meu braço, a minha perna, até minha cabeça, a bocca, si quizeres que ella desça à tua bota! Nella a lingua passo! Por ti, que és meu amigo, tudo faço, ainda que a amizade não meresça tamanho sacrificio! Que te cresça o pau farei, chupando-te, devasso! Por ti, que és meu amor, faço qualquer coisinha a mais, embora ninguem ame alguem que tem postura de madame e queira abusar, sendo uma mulher! Emfim, qualquer coisinha que eu puder farei, mesmo passando tal vexame! Não posso ser um homem que reclame! Quem vê bem faz dum cego o que quizer!

ANYTHING (Eric Burdon & The Animals) For you, my friend, I’d do anything Shine your shoes, anything Lose your blues, make love to you Take you under my wing, anything For you, my hero, I’d do anything Paint your picture, anything Kiss your photograph even though I know you’d laugh Stand beneath your wings, Oh, anything And for you, my love, I would do anything Kiss your feet and everything Suffer your pain but I’d ride your train Spread our tiny wings, baby, anything And for you, my son, I’d do everything Protect your mind from everything I could read your lies, dry tears from your eyes Spread your tiny wings, anything ‘Cause everything is anything And everything is anything

VESPERA DA DESTRUIÇÃO [6515] Ainda a bomba atomica perigo será! Sempre será, Glauco! Mas eu tentando dizer sigo, ao europeu, ao russo ou ao chinez: Não, meu amigo! O clima maior bomba será, sigo dizendo, Glauco! O mundo ja perdeu a chance de evitar o sujo breu que irá nos polluir! Bello castigo! Não poupo, no Occidente, quem protesto lançou pela canção! Americanos tambem são responsaveis pelos damnos causados ao planeta com seu gesto! Só fingem protestar! Meu manifesto é contra, justamente, esses insanos abutres consumistas! Poucos annos nos restam, Glauco! O resto será resto!

EVE OF DESTRUCTION (Barry McGuire) The eastern world, it is explodin’, Violence flarin’, bullets loadin’, You’re old enough to kill but not for votin’, You don’t believe in war, but what’s that gun you’re totin’, And even the Jordan river has bodies floatin’, But you tell me over and over and over again my friend, Ah, you don’t believe we’re on the eve of destruction. Don’t you understand, what I’m trying to say? And can’t you feel the fears I’m feeling today? If the button is pushed, there’s no running away, There’ll be no one to save with the world in a grave, Take a look around you, boy, it’s bound to scare you, boy, And you tell me over and over and over again my friend, Ah, you don’t believe we’re on the eve of destruction. Yeah, my blood’s so mad, feels like coagulatin’, I’m sittin’ here, just contemplatin’, I can’t twist the truth, it knows no regulation, Handful of Senators don’t pass legislation, And marches alone can’t bring integration, When human respect is disintegratin’, This whole crazy world is just too frustratin’, And you tell me over and over and over again my friend, Ah, you don’t believe we’re on the eve of destruction. Think of all the hate there is in Red China! Then take a look around to Selma, Alabama! Ah, you may leave here, for four days in space, But when your return, it’s the same old place, The poundin’ of the drums, the pride and disgrace, You can bury your dead, but don’t leave a trace, Hate your next door neighbor, but don’t forget to say grace, And you tell me over and over and over and over again [my friend, You don’t believe we’re on the eve of destruction. No, no, you don’t believe we’re on the eve of destruction.

I LOVE THE DEAD [6621] Preciso confessar, Poeta: amei os mortos loucamente, como o Cooper cantava! Fui do typo que até chupa as partes dum cadaver! Confessei! Glaucão, você me entende, sendo gay! Si mesmo um symbolista nós, de lupa em punho, percebemos que se occupa dos mortos com desejo, que direi? Direi que tambem posso desejar! Direi que vejo, sim, necrophilia, até num corpo ja na cova fria, a carne ja a azular ao nosso olhar! Direi que essa libido tumular é, Glauco, mais commum do que seria a sua fetichista phantasia por pés! E os dum defuncto? Os quer cheirar?

I LOVE THE DEAD (Alice Cooper) I love the dead before they’re cold They’re bluing flesh for me to hold Cadaver eyes upon me see nothing I love the dead before they rise No farewells, no goodbyes I never even knew your rotting face While friends and lovers mourn your silly grave I have other uses for you, darling

SIMPLE MAN [6745] Sou como todo mundo, Glauco! Quando mamãe me disse “Filho, eu estou brava comsigo! Maltractar não precisava a sua mulher!”, pouco fui ligando! É coisa muito simples: no commando estou eu, Glauco, e prompto! Minha escrava é toda mulher! Ella limpa, lava, cozinha, abre a boquinha e vae chupando! Um homem complicado nunca fui! Não fico cogitando de elevada polemica politica, nem nada! Sou homem que riquezas não possue! É simples: a mulher se prostitue ou casa-se! Casou, escravizada será! Sempre escravizo, Glauco, cada esposa! Chia? A gente substitue!

SIMPLE MAN (Lynyrd Skynyrd) Mama told me, when I was young Come sit beside me, my only son And listen closely to what I say And if you do this it will help you some sunny day Oh, yeah Oh, take your time, don’t live too fast Troubles will come, and they will pass Go find a woman, and you’ll find love And don’t forget, son, there is someone up above And be a simple kind of man Oh, be something you love and understand Baby, be a simple kind of man Oh, won’t you do this for me, son If you can? Forget your lust for the rich man’s gold All that you need is in your soul And you can do this, oh baby, if you try All that I want for you, my son Is to be satisfied And be a simple kind of man Oh, be something you love and understand Baby, be a simple kind of man Oh, won’t you do this for me, son If you can? Boy, don’t you worry, you’ll find yourself Follow your heart, and nothing else And you can do this, oh baby, if you try All that I want for you, my son Is to be satisfied

And be a simple kind of man Oh, be something you love and understand Baby, be a simple kind of man Oh, won’t you do this for me, son If you can? Baby, be a simple, be a simple man Oh, be something you love and understand Baby, be a simple kind of man

A SIMPLE MAN (Lobo) Where do butterflies go when it rains? Who goes around & tucks in the trains? What makes a teddy bear like to sleep? Why do we all make promises that we can’t keep? Where do puppy dogs go when their sad? And what do elephants say when their mad? Who do you tell if you don’t have a friend? Why do we open our mouths and stick our foot in? These are the things that bother me, Not a lot of things across some sea, I don’t even have a master plan, I guess that I am just a simple man. Where do robins sleep on the road? And how can a little ant carry that load? Why write words that we have to erase? Why does everyone have more than one face?

MY WALKING SHOES [6748] Meu tennis não me serve mais, Glaucão! De tanto caminhar, ficou meu pé inchado demais! Logico, não é? Terei que comprar outro, meu irmão! Eu era magro, Glauco! Nunca tão gordinho fiquei! Acho que eu até andei comendo menos! A ralé mais come do que eu, nessa condição! A crise não tá facil, cego! Ja que tem você fetiche por pisante usado, um que chulé guarde bastante, que tal de mim compral-o, meu? Não dá? Você me paga um novo! Então terá motivo para achar que se garante por muitas punhetinhas que, durante a sua quarentena, são mannah!

MY WALKING SHOES (em album da Nitty Gritty Dirt Band) My walking shoes don’t fit me anymore My walking shoes don’t fit me anymore Stay on your side of town, honey, I won’t be around My walking shoes don’t fit me anymore It’s long way from here to over yonder My feet they’re getting mighty sore I ain’t coming back you’ve made your mind to wander My walking shoes don’t fit me anymore I’ll be a longtime gone from you baby You’ll never here me knock upon your door I thought you were worth it once but I was crazy My walking shoes don’t fit me anymore

SWAMP MUSIC [6753] Glaucão, eu ensignei o meu bassê a, caso um cego veja, lhe rosnar! O cego, ao assustar-se, seu radar ja perde e que é feroz meu cão ja crê! É muito divertido, meu! Você se expanta? Aqui no brejo, vacillar implica cahir n’agua! Salutar não é, pois que está suja a gente vê! Mas latte-lhe o cachorro! O cego salta! Fugir, desesperado, o gajo tenta e, logo addeante, cae na lamacenta lagoa! Não se affoga, mas só falta! Ainda de bassês formo uma malta só para appavorar quem se lamenta da perda da visão! Acha que penta sou, Glauco? Sou cruel, ou só peralta?

SWAMP MUSIC (Lynyrd Skynyrd) Going down to the swamp Gonna watch me a hound dog catch a ‘coon Well, I’m going down to the swamp Gonna watch me a hound dog catch a ‘coon You know the hounddog make-a music On a summer night under a full moon Lord, fetch my cane pole mama Gonna catch a bream or maybe two Lord, fetch my cane pole mama Gonna catch a bream or maybe two And when the hound dog start barkin’ Sounds like ol’ son house singin’ the blues Hound dog sing that Swamp, swamp, swamp, swamp music Swamp, swamp, swamp, swamp music When the hound dog starts singin’ I ain’t got them big ol’ city blues Well, hey pretty mama Lord, just take that city hike Said go ahead pretty mama Lord, just take your city hike Well, I’d rather live with the hound dogs For the rest of my natural born life Singing that Swamp, swamp, swamp, swamp music Swamp, swamp, swamp, swamp music When the hound dog start to sing Well, I’d rather live with the hounddogs For the rest of my natural born life Well, I’d wanna live with the hound dogs For the rest of my natural born life

GIMME THREE STEPS [6756] Trez passos! Era tudo que eu, naquella noitada, precisava, Glauco, para cahir fora! A menina amei dum cara armado, que à procura estava della! O gajo me enquadrou e disse “Fellow, ahi, para morrer tu te prepara! Na minha mulher ias metter vara? Então eu tenho chifre? Ella é cadella?” Morri de medo! Disse que era enganno, mas elle explicitou seu ultimato: Morrer si eu não quizesse, ser de facto um corno quiz o gajo! Serio, mano! Deixei que elle chupasse meu pau, panno p’ra manga dei… Lambeu o meu sapato! Depois que gozei, elle foi cordato: livrou-me! De ser macho ja me uffano!

GIMME THREE STEPS (Lynyrd Skynyrd) I was cutting the rug Down at a place called The Jug With a girl named Linda Lu When in walked a man With a gun in his hand And he was looking for you know who. He said, “Hey there fellow, With the hair colored yellow, Watcha tryin’ to prove? ‘Cause that’s my woman there And I’m a man who cares And this might be all for you.” I was scared and fearing for my life. I was shakin’ like a leaf on a tree. ‘Cause he was lean, mean, Big and bad, Lord, Pointin’ that gun at me. I said, “Wait a minute, mister, I didn’t even kiss her. Don’t want no trouble with you. And I know you don’t owe me But I wish you’d let me Ask one favor from you.” “Won’t you give me three steps, Gimme three steps mister, Gimme three steps towards the door? Gimme three steps Gimme three steps mister, And you’ll never see me no more.”

Well the crowd cleared away And I began to pray As the water fell on the floor. And I’m telling you son, Well, it ain’t no fun Staring straight down a forty-four. Well he turned and screamed at Linda Lu And that’s the break I was looking for. And you could hear me screaming a mile away As I was headed out towards the door. “Won’t you give me three steps, Gimme three steps mister, Gimme three steps towards the door? Gimme three steps Gimme three steps mister, And you’ll never see me no more.”

MISSISSIPPI KID [6761] Ah, Glauco, si o moleque é do Capão ou la da Zona Leste, não se metta com elle, pois quem delle enfrenta a treta a cara quebra, accaba alli no chão! Moleque da peripha você não provoca sem livrar-se da vendetta! Naquella parte escura do planeta a turma não tolera a discussão! Tentei argumentar com um pivete que estava armado, Glauco! Me fodi! O tal gajo obrigou-me, bem alli na rua, a lhe pagar brutal boquette! Por isso sempre digo: quem se mette com essa meninada até chichi accaba por beber! Eu ja bebi! Hem? Pense nisso, caso se punhete!

MISSISSIPPI KID (Lynyrd Skynyrd) I’ve got my pistols in my pockets boys I’m, I’m Alabama bound I’ve got my pistols in my pocket boys I, I’m Alabama bound Well, I’m not looking for no trouble But nobody dogs me around Now when I’m going to fetch my woman, people, Tri-Cities [here I come Oh and I’m going to fetch my woman, people, Tri-Cities [here I come ‘Cause she was raised up on that cornbread I know that woman give me some Give me some baby Oh when the kid hits Alabama, people Don’t you try to dog him around Now when the kid hits Alabama, people Don’t you try to dog him around ‘Cause if you people cause me trouble, Lord I’ve got to put you in the ground Well, I was born in Mississippi Baby, don’t take any stuff from you Oh I was born in Mississippi And I don’t take any stuff from you And if I hit you on your head Boy, its got to make it black and blue Ah well I’m going to Alabama Got my pistols out by my side ‘Cause I ride to Alabama With my pistols out by my side ‘Cause down in Alabama You can run, but you sure can’t hide

POISON WHISKEY [6762] Poeta, a gente vê tanta cachaça na praça, artezanal, uma amarella, às vezes branca, azul… Porem aquella vermelha, de veneno, meu, não passa! Meu pae, que era briguento, um bom reaça que encrenca procurava, aquella bella cachaça tomou sempre e mattuschella ficou, até morrer! Uma desgraça! Quiz elle que eu tomasse essa bebida mortal, a tal da pinga vermelhinha, mas sempre preservei, poeta, a minha cabeça bem pensante nesta vida! É verde meu absintho, Glauco! Olvida você que todo bardo, nessa linha maldicta dos francezes, não definha por causa duma dose bem servida?

POISON WHISKEY (Lynyrd Skynyrd) Daddy was a cajun, baby, raised on southern land And so my kinfolks tell me, was a street-fightin’ man. Well, they rushed him down to see the doctor “Hey doctor, won’t you check his head?” The only thing that was wrong with him Was johnny walker’s red He drank ole poison whiskey ‘Til it killed him dead. It happened back in the bayou, baby, many years ago Satan came to take him and he did it real slow Well, they rushed him back to see the doctor The doctor just shook his head, “Twenty years of rotgut whiskey Done killed this poor man dead.” He drank ole poison whiskey ‘Til it killed him dead. Take a tip from me, people… Brothers can’t you see Ain’t no future in ole poison whiskey. They’re gonna rush you down to see the doctor, The doctor’s gonna shake your head. The only thing he’s gonna tell ya “Stop drinkin’ johnny walker’s red Don’t drink poison whiskey, don’t you drink it boy.

MEMPHIS [6766] Alô? Telephonista, por favor! Estou de informação necessitado! Fugiu-me um de menor e estou, coitado de mim, sem meu michê dominador! Na lista telephonica si for olhar, procure expertos: um soldado, um mano office-boy, um com solado bem gasto na botina, a se dispor! Achando um que a pisar se dispuzer, favor me dar seu numero do phone, da bota, até do tennis que detone de tanto caminhar a fim de affair! Desculpe, senhorita, mas mulher não serve! Tem que ser quem posicione um cego no logar e de Cambronne prefira a palavrinha no mester!

MEMPHIS (Chuck Berry) Long distance information, give me Memphis, Tennessee Help me find the party trying to get in touch with me She could not leave her number, but I know who placed [the call ‘Cause my uncle took the message and he wrote it on the wall Help me, information, get in touch with my Marie She’s the only one who’d phone me here from Memphis, [Tennessee Her home is on the south side, high up on a ridge Just a half a mile from the Mississippi bridge Help me, information, more than that I cannot add Only that I miss her and all the fun we had But we were pulled apart because her mom did not agree And tore apart our happy home in Memphis, Tennessee Last time I saw Marie, she was waving me goodbye With hurry-home drops on her cheek that trickled from her eye Marie is only 6 years old, information, please Try to put me through to her in Memphis, Tennessee

TUTTI FRUTTI [6767] Eu tenho mil garotas, Glauco! Minha piroca tem assucar! Namorada ja tive que ficava hallucinada chupando o pau de pessego que eu tinha! Com outra de maçan bem azedinha sabor eu puz na rolla! Não ha nada mais lubrico, Glaucão, para a chupada! Fedor? Bem… Ja fedi bella morrinha! Com outra puz sabor mais salgadinho debaixo do prepucio: um gorgonzola melhor é que acerola ou carambola! Ficou delicioso o meu sebinho! Então, Glaucão? Você, que bom ceguinho se diz, em mil sabores não exfolla a lingua? Sabe como minha sola degusta a namorada? Com carinho!

100

TUTTI FRUTTI (Little Richard) Whop bop b-luma b-lop bam bom Tutti frutti, aw rooty Tutti frutti, woo Tutti frutti, aw rooty Tutti frutti, aw rooty Tutti frutti, aw rooty A wop bop b-luma b-lop bam bom I got a girl named Sue She knows just what to do I got a girl named Sue She knows just what to do She rocks to the east, she rocks to the west But she’s the girl that I love best I got a girl named Daisy She almost drive me crazy I got a girl named Daisy She almost drive me crazy She knows how to love me Yes, indeed Boy, you don’t know what she do to me

101

WHAT’D I SAY [6768] {Ahi, Glauco! Repita aqui commigo: O cego tá fodido!} O cego tá fodido! {Boa! A foda lhe será castigo!} Lhe será a foda castigo! {Não, Glauco! Não inverta! Quando digo que deve chupar rolla, você ja repete: “chupar rolla”! Não, não dá p’ra ser “rolla chupar”, sinão eu brigo! Agora de Ray Charles eu assumo o posto! Vou fallando e você só repete! Entendeu? Vamos, no gogó! Repita assim: “Eu quero levar fumo!”} Eu quero levar fumo! {Optimo! O rhumo do nosso pappo ouriça! Agora tó! Me chupe esse caralho, seu bocó! Assim que eu gosto! Offegue, que eu irrumo!}

102

WHAT’D I SAY (Ray Charles) Hey mama, don’t you treat me wrong Come and love your daddy all night long All right now, hey hey, all right See the girl with the diamond ring She knows how to shake that thing All right now now now, hey hey, hey hey Tell your mama, tell your pa I’m gonna send you back to Arkansas Oh yes, ma’m, you don’t do right, don’t do right Aw, play it boy When you see me in misery Come on baby, see about me Now yeah, all right, all right, aw play it, boy When you see me in misery Come on baby, see about me Now yeah, hey hey, all right See the girl with the red dress on She can do the Birdland all night long Yeah yeah, what’d I say, all right Well, tell me what’d I say, yeah Tell me what’d I say right now Tell me what’d I say Tell me what’d I say right now Tell me what’d I say Tell me what’d I say yeah

103

And I wanna know Baby I wanna know right now And-a I wanna know And I wanna know right now yeah And-a I wanna know Said I wanna know yeah Spoken: Hey, don’t quit now! (c’mon honey) Naw, I got, I uh-uh-uh, I’m changing (stop! stop! [we’ll do it again) Wait a minute, wait a minute, oh hold it! Hold it! Hold it! Hey (hey) ho (ho) hey (hey) ho (ho) hey (hey) ho (ho) hey Oh one more time (just one more time) Say it one more time right now (just one more time) Say it one more time now (just one more time) Say it one more time yeah (just one more time) Say it one more time (just one more time) Say it one more time yeah (just one more time) Hey (hey) ho (ho) hey (hey) ho (ho) hey (hey) ho (ho) hey Ah! Make me feel so good (make me feel so good) Make me feel so good now yeah (make me feel so good) Woah! Baby (make me feel so good) Make me feel so good yeah (make me feel so good) Make me feel so good (make me feel so good) Make me feel so good yeah (make me feel so good) [etc.]

104

UNCHAIN MY HEART [6769] Ahi, poeta! Alguem, um lindo dia, seus braços ja ammarrou? Pois eu lhe digo: Você mais soffreria si commigo brincasse! Mais lambadas levaria! Seria accorrentado! Sim, seria aptado com grilhões! Sabe? Eu consigo gozar melhor si ponho de castigo alguem que nas correntes me ecstasia! Um cego bem se presta ao meu deleite, pois, sem usar os braços, mais me fica de jeito para nelle metter picca! Mais curto, Glauco, caso não acceite! Si pede elle “Me solta!”, p’ra que estreite ainda mais a argolla me dá a dica! Mais pede, mais aggravo sua zica! E engole, quando exporro, todo o leite!

105

UNCHAIN MY HEART (Ray Charles) Unchain my heart, baby let me be Unchain my heart because you don’t care about me You’ve got me sewed up like a pillowcase But you let my love go to waste so Unchain my heart, oh please, please set me free Unchain my heart, baby let me go Unchain my heart, because you don’t love me no more Every time I call you on the phone Some fella tells me that you’re not at home so Unchain my heart, oh please, please set me free I’m under your spell like a man in a trance But I know darn well, that I don’t stand a chance so Unchain my heart, let me go my way Unchain my heart, you worry me night and day Why lead me through a life of misery When you don’t care a bag of beans for me So unchain my heart, oh please, please set me free I’m under your spell like a man in a trance But I know darn well, that I don’t stand a chance so Unchain my heart, let me go my way Unchain my heart, you worry me night and day Why lead me through a life of misery When you don’t care a bag of beans for me So unchain my heart, please, please set me free (please set me free) Oh won’t you set me free (please set me free) Woah, set me free (please set me free) Woowow, set me, free little darling (please set me free) Oh won’t you set me free

106

NEVER DREAMED YOU’D LEAVE IN SUMMER [6771] Pensei no Stevie Wonder quando quiz voltar à adolescencia, comparal-a à minha primavera. Mas quem falla das flores, sem as cores, é feliz? Lembrei-me do verão, que não condiz com perdas de visão, mas para a valla commum foi o calor, que não se eguala aos frios tempos, negros na matiz. Bem, hoje meu outomno ja perfaz seu cyclo, desbotando um pouco mais aquillo que recordo: de meus paes, irmãos, velhos amigos, dum rapaz… Emfim, o meu hinverno só me traz, das dores previsiveis, os signaes: mais trevas, mais insomnia, as taes fataes doenças e, na crença, Satanaz.

107

NEVER DREAMED YOU’D LEAVE IN SUMMER (Stevie Wonder) I never dreamed you’d leave in summer I thought you would go then come back home I thought the cold would leave by summer But my quiet nights will be spent alone You said there would be warm love in springtime That was when you started to be cold I never dreamed you’d leave in summer But now I find myself all alone You said then you’d be the life in autumn Said you’d be the one to see the way I never dreamed you’d leave in summer But now I find my love has gone away Why didn’t you stay?

108

HEAVEN HELP US ALL [6772] Accuda Zeus quem anda pela rua à noite, sem ter casa nem comida! Accuda Zeus quem batte, quem revida, quem outras raças pune e salva a sua! Accuda Zeus quem come, quem jejua, quem tenta se mactar, quem ama a vida! Accuda Zeus quem fia, quem duvida, quem segue ensignamentos mas recua! Accuda Zeus as rosas numa guerra, menores que maiores não serão! Accuda Zeus quem faz duma nação appenas “um affecto que se encerra”! Accuda Zeus quem sente dor e berra, quem mudo sente e pensa a prece em vão! Accuda Zeus quem fica sem visão mas rei não tem, caolho, nesta terra!

109

INFRA FRATERNAL [6774] Eu acho que esse Stevie Wonder é bomzinho demais, Glauco! Sim, deseja a adjuda dos céus para quem rasteja aos pés de quem o chuta! Ahi até… Mas elle tambem mostra alguma fé na força protectora a quem esteja chutando o rastejante e que festeja a queda dum rival sob o seu pé! Será que Stevie exhibe piedade appenas na canção, ou é, de facto, humilde e piedoso? O que constato é que não foi seu mano tão confrade! Um outro negro nunca, Glaucão, ha de poupar da bicca alguem que em seu sapato exfregue e fira a lingua! A tão vil acto você mesmo offegou, graças a Sade!

110

HEAVEN HELP US ALL (Stevie Wonder) Heaven help the child who never had a home Heaven help the girl who walks the streets alone Heaven help the roses if the bombs begin to fall Heaven help us all Heaven help the black man if he struggles one more day Heaven help the white man if he turns his back away Heaven help the man who kicks the man who has to crawl Heaven help us all Heaven help us all, heaven help us all, help us all Heaven help us, Lord, hear our call when we fall Oh yeah, help us all Heaven help the boy who won’t reach twenty-one Heaven help the man who gave that boy a gun Heaven help the people with their backs against the wall Lord, Heaven help us all Heaven help us all, yeah, oh, hurry Heaven help us all, Lord, heaven help us all, help us all Heaven help us, Lord, hear our call when we fall Oh, help us all Now I lay me down before I go to sleep In a troubled world, I pray the Lord to keep Keep hatred from the mighty And the mighty from the small Heaven help us all Oh, oh, oh, yeah Heaven help us all, help us all Heaven help us all Ah, I need you, Lord, to help us all Heaven help us all I need you, Lord, need you now Heaven help us all

111

Desperately Lord, hear me, need you now Heaven help us all Help me Lord

112

I’M SORRY [6776] Sim, fiz que ella pedisse, que implorasse! Ousou me contestar, Glauco! Quiz ella usar um outro pratto, outra panella! Salada fez de vagem, não de alface! Um tapa dei! Mandei que sua face esquerda me virasse! Dei-lhe bella, sonora bofetada! Ah, que cadella! Então fiz que a direita me virasse! Pedindo piedade, de joelho, mandei que ella ficasse! Meu perdão só dei quando lambeu o meu dedão do pé! Depois lambeu mais um artelho! E então, Glaucão? Você tambem parelho se julga à cadellinha? Quer, então, tambem pedir perdão? Ah, não dou, não! Verseje mais o motte, eu acconselho!

113

I’M SORRY (gravação de Brenda Lee) I’m sorry, so sorry That I was such a fool I didn’t know Love could be so cruel Oh oh oh oh uh-oh oh yes You tell me mistakes Are part of being young But that don’t right The wrong that’s been done (I’m sorry) I’m sorry (So sorry) So sorry Please accept my apology But love is blind And I was to blind to see Oh oh oh oh uh-oh oh yes You tell me mistakes Are part of being young But that don’t right The wrong that’s been done Oh oh oh oh uh-oh oh yes I’m sorry, so sorry Please accept my apology But love was blind And I was too blind to see (Sorry)

114

WOODSTOCK [6780] Eu fico revoltada, Glauco! Fan serei da Joni Mitchell sempre, mas se exquesce ella que sempre intenções más os homens teem comnosco! Manos? Han! Jamais eu fui tractada como irman no circulo dos hippies! Um rapaz daquelles só queria ter chartaz commigo, feito um rustico galan! Dourada geração? Coisa nenhuma! Quer elle só foder uma menina, mais uma, mais e mais! Nunca termina a lista de bocetas que elle arrhuma! Magina si é possivel que elle assuma a pecha de machista! Ai da vagina que com outra vagina bem combina! Mordido de ciumes, elle espuma!

115

WOODSTOCK (Joni Mitchell) I came upon a child of God He was walking along the road And I asked him, “Where are you going?” And this he told me I’m going on down to Yasgur’s Farm I’m gonna join in a rock and roll band I’m gonna camp out on the land I’m gonna get my soul free We are stardust We are golden And we’ve got to get ourselves back to the garden Then can I walk beside you? I have come here to lose the smog And I feel to be a cog in something turning Well maybe it is just the time of year Or maybe it’s the time of man I don’t know who I am But you know life is for learning We are stardust We are golden And we’ve got to get ourselves back to the garden By the time we got to Woodstock We were half a million strong And everywhere there was song and celebration And I dreamed I saw the bombers Riding shotgun in the sky And they were turning into butterflies Above our nation

116

We are stardust Billion year old carbon We are golden Caught in the devil’s bargain And we’ve got to get ourselves back to the garden

117

LUIZ LUIZ [6833] Luiz, Luiz, eu tenho que ir-me ja! Achei um garotinho jamaicano de chatos pés e torto pincto! O mano me espera, la na terra delle está! Luiz, Luiz, você não irá la seguir-me, não é mesmo? Ou eu me enganno? Rockeiros aos montões, a todo panno, me seguem, me imitar querem! Não dá! Ja tive esse cubano, o Babalu, que todos cobiçaram e virou um Papa Oom Mow Mow! Em todo show faz delle qualquer gruppo o seu guru! Agora não divido mais! Tabu será fallarem desse! Luiz, vou embora, agora! Até mais ver! Estou de sacco cheio! Va tomar no cu!

118

LOUIE LOUIE (Richard Berry and The Pharoahs) Louie, Louie Louie, Louie, me gotta go Louie, Louie, me gotta go Fine little girl she waits for me Me catch the ship for cross the sea I sail the ship all alone I never think me make it home Louie, Louie, oh, me gotta go Louie, Louie, me gotta go Three nights and days me sail the sea Me think of girl constantly On the ship I dream she there I smell the rose in her hair Louie, Louie, me gotta go Louie, Louie, me gotta go Me see Jamaica moon above It won’t be long, me see my love Me take her in my arms and then I tell her I never leave again Louie, Louie, oh, me gotta go Louie, Louie, me gotta go I say, me gotta go I say, me gotta go

119

THEY’RE COMING TO TAKE ME AWAY HA HA [6910] Glaucão, minha mulher não se contenta em tudo me imputar como loucura! No hospicio me internar ella ja jura, na sua verborrhéa violenta! Si estallo-lhe um tabefe pela venta, a puta surta! Chama a viatura, me manda prender, vate! Essa tortura não finda nunca! Assim ninguem aguenta! Aqui no manicomio, todo dia, as arvores se vestem de verdura, os passaros gorgeiam, ha fartura de fructas no pomar! Uma alegria! Aqui, sim, mais feliz ella seria, tractada dessa syndrome sem cura! As ponctas eu serei quem mais segura, mas ella affirma sempre que é sadia!

120

THEY’RE COMING TO TAKE ME AWAY HA HA (Napoleon XIV) Remember when you ran away And I got on my knees and begged you Not to leave because I’d go beserk? WELL… You left me anyhow and Then the days got worse and worse And now you see I’ve gone completely out of my mind AND… They’re coming to take me away, Haha, they’re coming to take me away, Ho ho, hee hee, ha ha, To the funny farm Where life is beautiful all the time And I’ll be happy to see Those nice young men In their clean white coats And they’re coming to take me AWAY, HA HAAAA You thought it was a joke, And so you LAUGHED, YOU LAUGHED! When I had said that losing you Would make me flip my lid, RIGHT? You know you laughed. I HEARD you laugh, you laughed And laughed and laughed And then you left, But now you know I’m utterly mad AND…

121

They’re coming to take me away, Haha, they’re coming to take me away, Ho ho, hee hee, ha ha, To the happy home with trees and flowers And chirping birds and basket weavers Who sit and smile and Twiddle their thumbs and toes And they’re coming to take me away, HAHAAAAAAAAA I cooked your food, I cleaned your house, And this is how you pay me back For all my kind unselfish loving deeds HUH? Well, you just wait, They’ll find you yet, And when they do, they’ll put you in the ASPCA, you m [angy MUTT, AND…

122

BAD BOY [6961] Não é por nada, não, mas me imagino peor que um diabrete, que um traquinas! Terror eu sou de todas as meninas! Menino mau, eu sou o mau menino! Pudor, eu não respeito o feminino, siquer o masculino! Me imaginas cabaços deflorando, umas vaginas estreitas arrombando? Te previno: Não roubo, não, somente virgindades de moças innocentes, não, Glaucão! Tambem estupro um cego, caso não me faça, por bem, todas as vontades! Em summa, Glauco, caso não aggrades meu pau com tua bocca, te serão pesadas estas botas, pois no chão te irei pisar, peor que quaesquer Sades!

123

BAD BAD BOY (Nazareth) I’m a bad, bad boy And I’m gonna steal your love Said I’m a bad, bad boy And I’m gonna steal your love Come take me to your house Then I’m gonna rip you off. Well, I made my first kill With the old town girl She was the apple of her daddy’s eye Well, that woman looked up at me And I said, “Honey we’ll be Together ‘til the day I die” But I lied. I’m a bad, bad boy And I’m gonna steal your love I’m a bad, bad boy And I’m gonna steal your love Come take me to your house Then I’m gonna rip you off. There seems to be no end Of women who are lookin’ for a man My services don’t come cheap But I help out when I can Tell them lies that they wanna hear And I really lead ‘em on Spend all of their money And I’m long gone. I’m a bad, bad boy And I’m gonna steal your love I’m a bad, bad boy And I’m gonna steal your love Come take me to your house Then I’m gonna rip you off.

124

I’ve got tastes for fast cars I don’t wanna settle down The good life sure comes easily With all the mugs around The women they just come to me I don’t have to look around I move into their homes with them Then I move on. I’m a bad, bad boy And I’m gonna steal your love I’m a bad, bad boy I’m gonna steal your love Come take me to your house Then I’m gonna rip you off. I’m a bad, bad, bad, bad, bad, bad, Bad, bad, bad, bad, bad, bad boy I’m bad, I’m bad, I’m bad, I’m such a, such a bad, bad boy I’m gonna rip you off Just take control of your mind. I’m a bad, bad boy I’m gonna steal your love I’m a bad, bad boy I’m gonna steal your love I’m gonna rip you off Just take control of the time. I’m a bad, bad, bad, bad, bad You know, I’m a bad boy I’m so bad…

125

SOOKIE SOOKIE [6962] Serei quem te submette e te subjuga, agora que estás cego, Glauco! Pega meu pau com tua bocca! Lambe, exfrega a lingua! Não terás chance de fuga! Rasteja ahi, vae, feito tartaruga! Te ralla! Anda, te exfolla! Assim, offega! Usar irei a tua bocca cega! Engole! Enfia tudo! Suga! Suga! Não digas que entendeste mal a minha maneira de dizer que estás em meu poder, pois quem enxerga aqui sou eu! Abbaixa ahi, ceguinho! Olé! Engattinha! Ouviste esse somzão? É nessa linha que eu digo, rindo, como se fodeu um cego trouxa aos pés dum philisteu! Não achas que a sessão foi excarninha?

126

SOOKIE SOOKIE (Steppenwolf) Let it hang out baby, let it hang out now, now na-na now Let it hang out baby, everybody work out Sookie, sookie, sookie, sookie, sookie, sookie, sue Let it hang out baby, do the Baltimore jig Let it hang out baby, boomerang with me Sookie, sookie, sookie, sookie, sookie, sookie, sue Really got it bad child, drink a bottle of turpentine When you wake up in the morning, feelin’ kinda fine Let it hang out baby, let it hang out now, now na-na now You better watch your step girl, don’t step on that banana peel If your foot should ever hit it, you’ll go up to the ceiling Hang it in baby, hang it in baby, hang it in baby, hang it in baby Sookie, sookie, sookie, sookie, sookie, sookie, sue Let it hang out baby, let it hang out now, now na-na now Let it hang out baby, everybody work out Hang it in baby, hang it in baby, hang it in baby, hang it in baby Sookie, sookie, sookie, sookie, sookie, sookie, sue

127

ANECDOTA CARIBENHA (1/3) [8015] (1) Escandalo causou à dictadura daqui que uma piada do Caribe virasse ska dansante e fosse tão famosa a poncto de isso ser problema aos nossos jumentissimos censores. Renato e Seus Blue Caps amenizaram o thema, que extourou pelas paradas à guisa de canção da Joven Guarda, daquellas innocentes e cafonas. (2) Um joven quer casar. Seu pae procura e pede permissão. O pae prohibe: “É tua irman, porem tua mãe não está sabendo.” O filho extranha o eschema. Namora outras meninas, de outras cores, e quer casar com uma. Mal lhe param os planos, pois os paes das namoradas tambem respondem isso. O que é que o agguarda, alem de procurar putas nas zonas? (3) À mãe o meninão então dá a dura noticia. A mãe, comtudo, um riso exhibe e diz: “Não te preoccupes, pois estão por fora! Quem quizer casar, não tema! Não quero que tu tenhas novas dores, mas devo te contar que me comparam a alguma puritana por uns nadas! Teu pae não é teu pae! Só tem cor parda, tambem, mas nada sabe! Te emocionas?”

128

SHAME AND SCANDAL IN THE FAMILY (Brown/Donaldson) Woe is me Shame and scandal in the family In Trinidad there was a family With much confusion as you will see It was a mama and a papa and a boy who was grown He wanted to marry, have a wife of his own Found a young girl that suited him nice Went to his papa to ask his advice His papa said: “Son, I have to say no, This girl is your sister, but your mama don’t know” Oh, woe is me Shame and scandal in the family A week went by and the summer came ‘round Soon the best cook in the island he found He went to his papa to name the day His papa shook his head and to him did say “You Can’t marry this girl, I have to say no This girl is your sister, but your mama don’t know” Oh, woe is me Shame and scandal in the family He went to his mama and covered his head And told his mama what his papa had said His mama she laughed, she say, “Go man, go Your daddy ain’t your daddy, but your daddy don’t know.” Oh, woe is me Shame and scandal in the family

129

HOW MANY FRIENDS? (1/3) [8039] (1) Ainda me podia ver no espelho, um olho ja tapado, lente escura nos oculos, outro olho pouco vendo. Sahia à rua à noite, em visual rockeiro, de jaqueta trespassada e sempre havia alguem que me notasse, alguem que, mais bonito, me dizia curtir gajos que sabem se vestir. Nem elle, nem eu, tinhamos, de facto nas nossas caras nossas attracções. O gajo só queria me chupar. Eu só queria aquelle pé lamber. Ninguem era sincero, mas a gente tentava apparentar que era na cara, na roupa que se excolhem os parceiros. (2) Depois que fiquei cego, um rapazelho não pode mais dizer que em mim procura aquelle visual, antes horrendo, de punk ou de skinhead, em meu tribal jeitão, porem fajuto, na calada da noite, eu que não tinha a bella face. O mesmo rapazelho que, de dia, me via a bengalar, ficava a rir. De noite, me ligava, seu sapato queria descrever-me. Eu de Camões queria lhe dizer, de cor, um par de classicos sonnettos. Mas prazer tivemos em trocar, sinceramente, os nossos interesses, um na tara, nas lettras outro, os versos pelos cheiros.

130

(3) Ninguem mais vem pedir o meu conselho poetico ou rockeiro. Nem figura de velho bruxo faço, nem defendo papeis de menestrel profissional. Não resta, a permutar, hoje mais nada. Pergunto-me: affinal, como é que nasce vontade, ou amizade, ou sympathia reciprocas? Como é que, sem fingir, iremos nos querer? Accode, ingrato, à mente este dilemma: os amigões exsistem? Quantos delles eu comptar nos dedos posso? Quantos vão saber amar-nos como somos? Quem se sente comnosco solidario? Ora, tomara tenhamos inimigos verdadeiros!

131

HOW MANY FRIENDS (The Who) I’m feelin’ so good right now There’s a handsome boy tells me how I changed his past He buys me a brandy But could it be he’s really just after my ass? He likes the clothes I wear He says he likes a man who’s dressed in season But no one else ever stares, he’s being so kind What’s the reason? How many friends have I really got? How many friends have I really got? How many friends have I really got? That love me, that want me, that’ll take me as I am? Suddenly it’s the silver screen And a face so beautiful that I have to cry out Everybody hears me But I look like a fool now With a cry and I shy out She knows all of my friends But it’s nice to find a woman who can stay home late Now I think I’ve reached the end I wonder in the dead of night -- how do I rate? How many friends have I really got? How many friends have I really got? How many friends have I really got? That love me, that want me, that’ll take me as I am? [Bridge] It’s all like a dream you know When you’re still up early in the morning And you all sit together to watch the sun come through But things don’t look so good When you could use a bit of warning Then you know that no one will ever speak the truth [about you

132

How many friends have I really got? How many friends have I really got? How many friends have I really got? That love me, that want me, that’ll take me as I am? When I first signed a contract It was more than a handshake then I know it still is But there’s a plain fact We talk so much shit behind each other’s backs I get the willies People know nothing about their own soft gut So how come they can sum us up Without suffering all the hype we’ve known How come they bum us up How many friends have I really got? You can count ‘em on one hand How many friends have I really got? How many friends have I really got? That love me, that want me, that’ll take me as I am?

133

NOBODY ELECTED YOUR FAMILY (1/2) [8047] (1) {Ahi, Glauco, você que curte rock não acha que faz falta alguem que fique com raiva mas que faça algo que nua exponha dos poderes a mazella? Hem, Glauco? Meu, agora attenção presto a tanta jumentice e puto fico, mas lettras typo Dylan ja não temos! Beber da juventude esse elixir rockeiro nem podemos! Lhe escrevinho, Glaucão, para pedir que dê na veia um toque musical, para meu sonho saudoso reviver! Quero sonhar!} (2) -- Bons tempos em que Guthrie dava toque do typo quanto a Nixon, “tricky Dicky”, cantando que “Ninguem elegeu sua familia, seus amigos!” Sim, aquella foi epocha de facto do protesto bem feito, como o nosso pelo Chico. Agora, tristes tempos nós vivemos aqui, quando até temos de engolir alguem sendo chamado de “mythinho”. Jamais pude sentir vergonha alheia maior, mesmo porque não me envergonho por gente que não vale um “Appesar…”

134

PRESIDENTIAL RAG (Arlo Guthrie) You said you didn’t know That the cats with the bugs were there And you never go along with that kind of stuff no where But that just isn’t the point man That’s the wrong, wrong way to go If you didn’t know about that one, well then what else [don’t you know You said that you were lied to Well that ain’t hard too see But you must have been fooled again by your friends [across the sea And maybe you were fooled again by your people here at home Because nobody could talk like you And know what’s going on Nobody elected your family And we didn’t elect your friends No one voted for your advisers And nobody wants amends You’re the one we voted for, so you must take the blame For handing out authority to men who are insane You say its all fixed up now, you’ve got new guys on the line But you had better remember this while you still got the time Mothers still are weeping for their boys who went to war And fathers are still asking what the whole damn thing [was for And People still are hungry and people still are poor An honest week of work these days don’t feed the kids no more And schools are still like prisons Cuz we don’t learn how to live And everybody wants to get, nobody wants to give Yes you will be remembered, be remembered very well And if I live a long life, oh, the stories I could tell Of men and wars and poverty, of sickness and of greed, hell Yes, you will be remembered, be remembered very well You said you didn’t know That the cats with the bugs were there You’d never go along with that kind of stuff no where But that just isn’t the point man That’s the wrong ,wrong way to go If you didn’t know about that one Well then what else don’t you know?

135

CHILENA CANTILENA (1/2) [8058] (1) {Paresce-me, Glaucão, ser opportuno fallarmos do que rolla alli no Chile. Não achas que isso lembra aquelles dias saudosos, anteriores ao estado milico, de excepção, la nos septenta? Refiro-me aos protestos, mesmo appós ter dado o Pinochet aquelle insano, sangrento golpe. E então? Te lembras quando o Victor Jara, preso num estadio no meio de centenas, protestou cantando? Que fizeram os milicos? Lesaram suas mãos, as mesmas mãos que tanto na guitarra dedilhavam! Mactaram-n’o, depois! Te lembras? Tudo por causa das canções que, por Allende, fez elle, incentivando um operario, um medico, um mineiro, um professor a serem mais participes do seu paiz, Glauco! Te lembras? Por signal, não era só no Chile: ca tambem soffremos repressão e sempre fora algum compositor mais censurado, embora sem perder as mãos, a vida…}

136

(2) -- Sim, claro que me lembro. Fui alumno, então, da USP e as lettras nem vacille você em pensar que nunca foram frias alli naquelle campus tão visado por nossa dictadura violenta. Mas quero recordar, ja que entre nós rockeiros são heroes, que esse paizano, o Jara, virou thema do nefando regime, na canção que, não no radio, mas sim num elepê, como num show, ouvi bastante, então. Nem nossos Chicos cantaram o que Guthrie a seus irmãos latinos bem cantou. Claro, cantavam tambem outros Caetanos, nenhum mudo ficou, nem Gil, nem Milton. Reaccende agora a atroz questão esse scenario chileno, ou argentino, ou de suppor que seja, brazileiro, ou europeu, até, si ja global se torna a tal questão dessa direita, alhures, em crescente expansão, sempre repressora. Esteve esse Arlo Guthrie mais do lado de baixo que de cyma. Alguem duvida?

137

VICTOR JARA (Arlo Guthrie)

Victor Jara of Chile

Lived like a shooting star He fought for the people of Chile With his songs and his guitar His hands were gentle, his hands were strong Victor Jara was a peasant Who worked from a few years old He sat upon his father’s plow And watched the earth unfold His hands were gentle, his hands were strong Now when the neighbors had a wedding Or one of their children died His mother sang all night for them With Victor by her side His hands were gentle, his hands were strong He grew up to be a fighter Against the people’s wrongs He listened to their grief and joy And turned them into songs His hands were gentle, his hands were strong He sang about the copper miners And those who worked the land He sang about the factory workers And they knew he was their man His hands were gentle, his hands were strong He campaigned for Allende Working night and day He sang, “take hold of your brother’s hand You know the future begins today” His hands were gentle, his hands were strong

138

Then the generals seized Chile They arrested Victor then They caged him in a stadium With five thousand frightened men His hands were gentle, his hands were strong Victor stood in the stadium His voice was brave and strong And he sang for his fellow prisoners ‘Til the guards cut short his song His hands were gentle, his hands were strong They broke the bones in both his hands They beat him on the head They tore him with electric shocks And then they shot him dead His hands were gentle, his hands were strong

139

QUEM TEM UM SALSICHUDO TEM TUDO [8151] Quem tem um salsichudo ja tem tudo na vida e não precisa de mais nada. Faltou calor humano? Esse orelhudo mais vale que outro amante ou que outra amada. Bassê, quem tem, tem sempre. Na segunda lhe lambe a cara assim que o dia raia e, mesmo si levou tapa na bunda, saudade sente caso você saia. Na terça, vem com cara arrependida si mette onde não deve a patta torta, mas, quando ao nosso almosso se convida, só fica nos olhando e se comporta. Si tempo me sobrar, levo, na quarta, meu fofo a passear, mas, nessa breve voltinha, de cheirar elle se farta e mette o narigão onde não deve. Si chove, seu passeio está, na quincta, suspenso, pois molhar não pode a patta. Na cama é justo, então, que eu lhe consinta a chance de passar a tarde chata. Não quero mimar muito, mas, na sexta, si a chuva não parar, o cão na cama permitto subir. Elle, que de besta nadinha tem, na colcha se exparrama. No sabbado, o sol volta e meu bassê com outros quer sahir e brincar juncto. Tambem o seu passeia e com você nem posso conversar sobre outro assumpto. Assim, pois, voltaremos, no domingo, ao parque e, com você, sempre percorro o rastro dos bassês, até que um pingo nos lembre de buscar nosso cachorro.

140

A BASSET IS AN ASSET (Bronwyn Edwards Cryer) With long droopy ears and a tail that swishes You oughta put a basset at the top of your wishlist A lowrider, slow kinda easy-going pal, A Basset is an Asset Oh a Basset is an asset on a Monday If you ask him very nicely, he won’t bring in the paper Instead he will give you a look to remind ya To use your own legs and he will follow close behind ya A Basset is an asset on a Tuesday If you scratch him on his tummy, and feed him something yummy You know he will tell that he does appreciate ya He might be kind of stubborn but he’s got a loving nature With long droopy ears and a tail that swishes You oughta put a basset at the top of your wishlist A lowrider, slow kinda easy-going pal, A Basset is an Asset A basset is an asset on a Wednesday When you return from where you’re going, she’ll be so [pleased to see ya She waits for the moment when you’re hers and hers alone To snuggle up beside ya, happy dog and happy owner. When Thursday comes around and you must leave her Share some loving with your Basset, and don’t be gone [too long She’ll be waiting for the moment when you come back [through the door To take her to the off-leash for a waddle or a stroll With long droopy ears and a tail that swishes You oughta put a basset at the top of your wishlist A lowrider, slow kinda easy-going pal, A Basset is an Asset

141

Oh a Basset is an Asset on a Friday Whatever you are doing, he’ll be so pleased to tag along He loves to ride the motor bike, his ears blowing free Behind you on the pushbike or the SUV A Basset is an asset on a Saturday Jump into your car and take her for an outing To any destination as long as you are there She isn’t too particular so take her anywhere With long droopy ears and a tail that swishes You oughta put a basset at the top of your wishlist A lowrider, slow kinda easy-going pal, A Basset is an Asset (repeat chorus) Sundays spent with your Basset hound, These are the best of times, no better to be found, Because a Basset is an asset In every facet so let’s rehash it… No sweeter love than Basset love You can’t resist a Basset kiss Soft floppy ears and great big paws Smile for a while, he could be yours Because a basset is an asset to you (Long floppy ears, big huge paws… A basset is an asset. Cute.)

142

ODE AMBULATORIAL (1/24) [8189] (para Loudon Wainwright, meu idolo no folk rock) (1) Ao medico vou. Elle diz: “Menino, quietinho fique, emquanto eu examino! Eu acho que não deve ser problema…” (2) Ao medico vou. Elle diz: “Meu joven, coisinhas desse typo se removem! Não fique preoccupado! Não exprema!” (3) Ao medico vou. Elle diz: “Moleque, melhor é que tão duro não defeque, sinão vae complicar todo o systema!” (4) Ao medico vou. Elle diz: “Garoto, você não vae perder o seu escroto! Pensou que é fim do mundo um apostema?” (5) Ao medico vou. Elle diz: “Pirralho, você não vae perder o seu caralho, mas nunca mais o prenda com algema!” (6) Ao medico vou. Elle diz: “Rapaz, eu acho que você tem muito gaz ainda! Falta, aos poucos, mas não tema!” (7) Ao medico vou. Elle diz: “Seu moço, será bem reduzido o seu almosso! Retorne à minha clinica em Moema!”

143

(8) Ao medico vou. Elle diz: “Meu filho, vae tudo bem, não vejo um empecilho maior, mas volte, cuide desse edema!” (9) Ao medico vou. Elle diz: “Irmão, problemas de sahude communs são! Jamais desistir, sempre foi meu lemma!” (10) Ao medico vou. Elle diz: “Amigo, depois do seu exame é que eu me intrigo, mas jeito dá, não pense que é um dilemma!” (11) Ao medico vou. Elle diz: “Parceiro, seu drama até que é caso costumeiro! Nenhum mal faz o leite, nem a gemma!” (12) Ao medico vou. Elle diz: “Não, mano! Tão serio não paresce ser o damno! P’ra tudo tem a gente estratagema!” (13) Ao medico vou. Elle diz: “Querido, Não creio que será tão dolorido! Doendo, bastará um telephonema!” (14) Ao medico vou. Elle diz: “Meu chapa, não tema, porque desta você excappa! Motivo não será para que trema!”

144

(15) Ao medico vou. Elle diz: “Meu caro, olhando o seu exame é que eu reparo que pode ser mais grave esse emphysema!” (16) Ao medico vou. Elle diz: “Patrão, não fique no local passando a mão! Assim ninguem resolve um erythema!” (17) Ao medico vou. Elle diz: “Cumpade, do caso ja advisei da gravidade! Porem contra a corrente você rema!” (18) Ao medico vou. Elle diz: “Collega, é tanta anomalia que se pega! Nem queira saber dessa mais extrema!” (19) Ao medico vou. Elle diz: “Você ficou chocado? Credito não dê às coisas que você vê no cinema!” (20) Ao medico vou. Elle diz: “Senhor, provoca, sim, a droga alguma dor, mas nada que tão alto o senhor gema!” (21) Ao medico vou. Elle diz: “Não, thio, tão grave não será, pois eu confio que nada vae furar o meu eschema!”

145

(22) Ao medico vou. Elle diz: “Poeta, percebo que você não faz dieta! Verdade é o que contou no seu poema?” (23) Ao medico vou. Elle diz: “Ceguinho, eu acho que não resta algum caminho mais facil neste nosso duro thema!” (24) Ao medico vou. Elle diz assim: “Não chore! Tudo sempre tem um fim! Do corpo nada fica! A gente crema!”

146

THE DOCTOR (Loudon Wainwright) I went to the doctor and the doctor said Son you look older than me and I’m 71 You’re falling apart and not living right I went to the doctor and the doctor said Loud, you’ve got to stop hanging out With that olden crowd Living’s a battle and you’re losing the fight I went to the doctor and the doctor said Boy, your body is a temple, it’s not a toy Fill up this here paper cup and give it to the nurse Don’t spill it now I went to the doctor and the doctor said Friend this should be the middle But it could be the end You better get better or else you’re gonna get worse Oh, I went to the doctor Oh, I went to the doctor I went to the doctor and the doctor said Sir we got back the X-ray everything’s a blur It’s all positive that’s what every single test shows I went to the doctor and the doctor said Kid it was something that you ate or drank It’s something that you did And it’s all in your head and It’s spreadin on down to your toes Let’s spread it around a little bit now Oh, I went to the doctor, everybody does Oh, I went to the doctor

147

I went to the doctor and the doctor said Please get on down to the drug store And pick up some of these After that get on home and get into your bed I went to the doctor and the doctor said Shucks that’s just about all, you owe me 300 bucks And you can call me in the morning That is if you’re not dead 2, 3, 4… Oh, I went to the doctor I was checkin’ up on you Oh, I went to the doctor

148

RHAPSODIA LOUDONIANA [8370] A musica aos espiritos appella. Fazer rir ou chorar, eis o condão do grande trovador folk. A canção que fez Loudon Wainwright é prova bella. “Sometimes I forget” algo nos revela de tragico e veridico: elle não encontra para o caso explicação e tudo no scenario se congela. Vivia com a amada. Sumiu ella, deixando para traz coisas que são vitaes e pessoaes, objectos tão communs… Não houve prosa nem querella… Agora, a canção dessas coisas falla, dos oculos, até, deixados bem alli, com a charteira, sem ninguem que desse informação. Onde encontral-a? Às vezes, elle exquesce, mas nem mala levou ella… À lembrança tudo vem de novo e que chorar a gente tem. Por onde ella andará? Quem não se abballa? Nos lembra aquillo alguem que para a valla perdemos de repente, lembra alguem que pode estar por perto, ao menos em espirito, vagando noutra salla…

149

SOMETIMES I FORGET (Loudon Wainwright) Sometimes I forget that you’ve gone You’ve gone, and you’re not coming back And it’s hard to believe that you’re still not here What’s left behind, disputes that fact Your closet is still full of your clothes and shoes And your bookcase still holds all your books It’s as if all you’ve done is go out of town You’ll be back soon, that’s just how it looks But your suitcase is empty, it’s right here in the hall That’s not even the strangest thing Why would you leave your wallet behind Your glasses, your wristwatch and ring Your glasses, your wristwatch and ring Sometimes I forget that you’ve gone That we’ll never see you again I think for a moment, I’ve got to give him a call But I can’t now I realize that No we can’t meet for lunch at the usual place The place where we always would go And there was something I wanted to tell you so bad Something I knew that you’d want to know I could go by myself to our old haunt That seems like such a strange thing to do The waiters would wonder what was going on Why weren’t you there, where were you Why weren’t you there, where were you Sometimes I forget that you’ve gone I remember and I feel the ache How could it have happened, how could it be It’s not true, there must be some mistake Moments, memories, tell me what good are they No they’re not much to have and to hold And it’s true that you’re gone And you’re not coming back

150

And this world seems so empty and cold But sometimes something happens It doesn’t seem strange You’re not far away, you’re near Sometimes I forget that you’ve gone Sometimes it feels like you’re right here Right now it feels like you’re right here

151

RHAPSODIA CROSBYANA [8375] O hippie quer transar, sem compromisso, com sua liberada namorada e pede que ella acceite ser tractada assim, como um calção carnal, submisso. Mas uma só não basta! Aqui um enguiço começa. Como às duas a salada contar ou explicar, dizer que nada impede que ambas tenham parte nisso? Encaram as meninas com suisso sorriso o que o rapaz propõe a cada? Farão ambas aquillo que lhe aggrada sem nada achar forçado nem postiço? Duvido! Mais a mais, nem desperdiço meu tempo analysando si uma amada garota amar tambem um camarada que amigo nem é muito do outro ommisso. Ciumes se resolvem qual cediço costume que se exstingue em mão de fada? Casaes se multiplicam qual ninhada de gattos? Eu tal coisa não attiço. Mas Crosby foi experto: “Si eu cobiço as minas dos meus manos, pela estrada a gente vae transando… Que eu me evada que impede, si não mostram mais serviço?”

152

TRIAD (David Crosby) You want to know how it will be Me and her/him or you and me You both stand there your long hair flowing Your eyes alive your mind still growing Saying to me — “What can we do now that we both love you” I love you too - I don’t really see Why can’t we go on as three You are afraid - embarrassed too No one has ever said such a thing to you Your mother’s ghost stands at your shoulder Face like ice - a little bit colder Saying to you - “You can not do that, it breaks All the rules you learned in school” I don’t really see Why can’t we go on as three We love each other - it’s plain to see There’s just one answer that comes to me Sister-lovers-water-brothers And in time - maybe others So you see - what we can do is to try something new If you’re crazy too - I don’t really see Why can’t we go on as three

153

RHAPSODIA SEEGERIANA (1/2) [8384] (1) {Glaucão, notei que alguns poemas seus retornam à palavra de partida no verso final. Isso me lembrou aquella canção, triste, de protesto do Pete Seeger, onde elle questiona: “Aonde irão as flores, affinal? Meninas essas flores colher vão. Que irão ellas fazer? Irão casar. E seus jovens maridos? Virarão soldados. Onde irão elles parar? Irão pro cemeterio. Que será de tantas tumbas feito? Darão flores. Destino qual terão as flores? Sim, serão todas colhidas por meninas, que tudo perpetuam.” Concluindo, indaga Seeger: “Quando, um dia, alguem alguma licção disso tirará?” Canção assim é mesmo magistral, concorda, Glauco? Sinto o pacifismo um tanto pessimista, porem vivo.}

154

(2) -- Sim, acho o Pete Seeger um dos meus auctores favoritos. Sempre vida terá no pacifismo o que restou das nossas utopias, que, de resto, nas novas gerações alguem abbona. O Johnny Rivers tinha a principal dansante cover dessa astral canção. Será que tal licção terá logar nos dias actuaes? Hem? Não sei, não. Ah, quantas vezes elle fez chorar um joven semicego! Mais fará! Cantores folk estão entre os auctores mais intellectuaes e, para mim, mais mestres das palavras mais ferinas, ainda que suaves, e seu lindo legado ficará. Não quero nem pensar, quando estiver ja bem gagá, naquillo que verei, digo, que mal ouvir conseguirei, mas ‘inda scismo que nunca perco o utopico objectivo.

155

WHERE HAVE ALL THE FLOWERS GONE? (Pete Seeger) Where have all the flowers gone, long time passing? Where have all the flowers gone, long time ago? Where have all the flowers gone? Young girls picked them, ev’ry one. Oh, When will they ever learn? Oh, when will they ever learn? Where have all the young girls gone, long time passing? Where have all the young girls gone, long time ago? Where have all the young girls gone? Gone to young men, ev’ry one. Oh, When will they ever learn? Oh, when will they ever learn? Where have all the young men gone, long time passing? Where have all the young men gone, long time ago? Where have all the young men gone? Gone for soldiers, ev’ry one. When will we ever learn? Oh, when we ever learn? Where have all the soldiers gone, long time passing? Where have all the soldiers gone, long time ago? Where have all the soldiers gone? Gone to graveyards, ev’ry one. When will they ever learn? Oh, when will they ever learn? Where have all the graveyards gone, long time passing? Where have all the graveyards gone, long time ago? Where have all the graveyards gone? Gone to flowers, ev’ry one. When will they ever learn? Oh, when will they ever learn?

156

RHAPSODIA TOSHIANA (1/2) [8398] (1) {Ah, Glauco! Ja fallei! Sem brincadeira! Cigarro, sim, faz mal! Mas a maconha faz bem, até glaucoma cura, cara! Duvida? Canta Peter Tosh um hymno à legalização do baseado! Não fosse a concorrencia do mercado das drogas pharmaceuticas, a nossa benefica canabis poderia curar todos os males! Pelo menos é muito mais gostosa de cheirar!} (2) -- Chulé faz bem, tambem, para a cegueira dum gajo que jamais teve vergonha de, em verso, bem fallar da tara rara. Tampouco duvidei que, dum menino de rua, a chulepenta sola achado será da medicina si provado ficar que meu prazer preencher possa. Quem sabe, mais podolatras, por via oral, nos seus pulmões teriam plenos effeitos? Não me canso de testar…

157

BUSH DOCTOR (Peter Tosh) Warning! The Surgeon General warns Cigarette smoking is dangerous, dangerous Hazard to your health Does that mean anything to you? To legalize marijuana, yeah Right here in Jamaica, yeah Them say it cure glaucoma, yeah I-man a the Bush Doctor, yeah So there’ll be No more smokin’ And feelin’ tense When I see them a come I don’t have to jump no fence Legalize marijuana, yeah Down here in Jamaica, yeah Only cure for asthma, yeah I-man a the minister, yeah So there’ll be no more, police brutality No more disrespect for humanity Legalize marijuana, yeah Down here in Jamaica, yeah It can build up a failing economy, yeah Eliminate the slavish mentality, yeah So there’ll be no more illegal, humiliation And no more police interrogation Legalize marijuana Down here in sweet Jamaica Only cure for glaucoma I-man a the Bush Doctor, yeah

158

And there’ll be No more need to smoke and hide When you know you’re takin’ a legal ride So legalize marijuana Down here in Jamaica It’s the only cure for glaucoma I-man a the minister, yeah

159

RHAPSODIA LENNONIANA (1/2) [8397] (1) {Direito de fumar, Glauco, o comparo à propria liberdade de ir e vir! À livre excolha, até, de respirar! Assim fallou John Lennon quando quiz luctar por John Sinclair, que tinha sido culpado de fumar, ou de portar, ja nem me lembro, um par de baseados… Aquillo que de facto tem razão o Lennon de dizer é que ninguem ser preso pode pela sua plena e livre preferencia por um typo de gaz ou ar que queira pela venta sugar ou, como dizem, inspirar! Tem duvida você nessa questão?} (2) -- Nenhuma. Mais exotico ou mais raro que seja qualquer habito (ou convir que seja vicio posso), nenhum ar, nem vento, nem vapor, esse infeliz poder da caretice conseguido terá nos prohibir de desfructar. O mesmo vale para alguns calçados fedidos, para as meias, o pezão que calça taes fetiches, si quem tem tesão por isso os quer na sua scena. Portanto, dizer devo: participo da causa, mas quem tanto se contenta com hervas tem tambem que tolerar a minha chulepenta devoção…

160

JOHN SINCLAIR (John Lennon) It ain’t fair, John Sinclair In the stir for breathing air Won’t you care for John Sinclair? In the stir for breathing air Let him be, set him free Let him be like you and me They gave him ten for two What else can the judges do? They gotta gotta gotta gotta gotta gotta Gotta gotta gotta gotta gotta gotta gotta Gotta gotta set him free If he’d been a soldier man Shooting gooks in Vietnam If he was the CIA Selling dope and making hay He’d be free, they’d let him be Breathing air, like you and me They gave him ten for two What else can the judges do? They gotta gotta gotta gotta gotta gotta Gotta gotta gotta gotta gotta gotta gotta Gotta gotta set him free Was he jailed for what he done? Representing everyone Free John now, if we can From the clutches of the man Let him free, lift the lid Bring him to his wife and kids, alright They gave him ten for two What more can the judges do? They gotta gotta gotta gotta gotta gotta Gotta gotta gotta gotta gotta gotta gotta Gotta gotta set him free

161

BOTTLE OF WINE [8823] Não era, amigo Glauco, uma canção dum gruppo, os Fireballs, si não me enganno, que tinha lettra contra a bebedeira? Queria da garrafa ficar longe, pedia que deixasse em paz alguem que estava só querendo para casa voltar, ou coisa assim… Pelo que entendo, o vinho uma ammeaça parescia, um vicio que impedia alguem de ser feliz e livre… Estou eu engannado? Commigo não tem disso! Uma garrafa de vinho será sempre companhia amiga para aquelle que está só! Mas desde que não seja vinho fracco, docinho, de mulher, emfim… Não acha, Glaucão? Não mesmo? Vinho doce bebe você tambem? Mas tudo occasião tem, certo? O vinho tincto você bebe nas horas de maior meditação, naquella philosophica afflicção! Agora accertei? Optimo, pois vejo que estamos nós concordes: discordamos appenas da canção dos Fireballs.

162

BOTTLE OF WINE (The Fireballs) Bottle of wine, fruit of the vine When you gonna let me get sober? Leave me alone, let me go home Let me go home and start over Ramblin’ around this dirty old town And singin’ for nickels and dimes Times gettin’ rough, I ain’t got enough To buy me a bottle of wine, yeah Bottle of wine, fruit of the vine When you gonna let me get sober? Leave me alone, let me go home Let me go home and start over A pain in my head, there’s bugs in my bed My pants are so old that they shine Out on the street, I tell the people I meet To buy me a bottle of wine, whoa Bottle of wine, fruit of the vine When you gonna let me get sober? Leave me alone, let me go home Let me go home and start over Bottle of wine, fruit of the vine When you gonna let me get sober? Leave me alone, let me go home Let me go home and start over (come on!) Bottle of wine, fruit of the vine When you gonna let me get sober? Leave me alone, let me go home Let me go home and start over Let me go home and start over Let me go home and start over

163

RED RED WINE [8824] Glaucão, numa canção ouvi Neil Diamond dizer que tem no vinho um bom amigo, aquella companhia ao solitario subjeito! Não quer elle ficar longe dum trago: quer, em summa, que esse vinho esteja sempre perto quando o gajo está desconsolado! Sou assim, poeta: adoro um vinho quando fico saudoso, deprimido ou desgostoso! Nas horas mais alegres? Sim, tambem costumo beber vinho! Você não? Ah, cara! Affinidade, então, nós temos! Só falta combinarmos um encontro e pormos esse pappo molle em dia!

164

RED RED WINE (Neil Diamond / UB40) Red, red wine goes to my head Makes me forget that I still need her so Red, red wine, it’s up to you All I can do I’ve done Memories won’t go, memories won’t go I’d have sworn that with time Thoughts of you leave my head I was wrong, now I find Just one thing makes me forget Red, red wine, stay close to me Don’t let me be alone It’s tearing apart my blue heart I’d have sworn that with time Thoughts of you leave my head I was wrong, now I find Just one thing makes me forget Red, red wine, stay close to me Don’t let me be alone It’s tearing apart my blue heart Red red wine, you make me feel so fine You keep me rockin’ all of the time Red red wine, you make me feel so grand I feel a million dollar when you’re just in my hand Red red wine, you make me feel so sad Any time I see you go, it make me feel bad Red red wine, you make me feel so fine Monkey pack him Rizla pon the sweet Dep line

165

Red red wine, weh give me whole heap of zing Whole heap of zing, make me do my own thing Red red wine, you really know how fi love Your kind of lovin’ like a blessing from above Red red wine, I loved you right from the start Right from the start, and with all of my heart Red red wine inna eighties style Red red wine inna modern beat style Yeah Give me a likkle time, let me clear up mi mind Give me a likkle time, let me clear up mi mind Give me red wine, the kind make me feel fine You make me feel fine all of the time Red red wine, you make me feel so fine Monkey pack him Rizla pon the sweet Dep line The line broke, the money get choked Bun bad ganja pon him likkle rowing boat Red red wine, I’m gonna hold on to you Hold on to you ‘cause I know yuh love truth Red red wine, I’m gonna love you til’ I die Love you ‘til I die, and that’s no lie Red red wine, can’t get you out mi mind Wherever you may be, I’ll surely find I’ll surely find, make no fuss, just leave us Give me a little time, let me clear out my mind Give me a little time, let me clear out my mind Give me red wine, the kind make me feel fine You make me feel fine all of the time Red red wine, you make me feel so fine Monkey back and ease up on the sweet deadline The line broke, the money get choked Bun bad ganja pon him likkle rowing boat

166

Red red wine, you really know how fi love Your kind of lovin’ like a blessing from above Red red wine, I loved you right from the start Right from the start, and with all of my heart Red red wine, weh give me whole heap of zing Whole heap of zing, make me do my own thing Red red wine inna eighties style Red red wine inna modern beat style Yeah Red red wine, you make me feel so fine You keep me rockin’ all of the time Red red wine, you make me feel so grand I feel a million dollar when you’re just in my hand Red red wine, you make me feel so sad Any time I see you go, it make me feel bad

167

DRINKING WINE SPO-DEE-O-DEE [8825] Glaucão, eu, toda vez que escuto um som daquelles cincoentistas, com o Johnny Burnette, e elle tambem, Jerry Lee Lewis, me lembro da champagne que expouquei diversas vezes, para celebrar conquistas amorosas! Hoje em dia, me lembra appenas uma punhetinha que batto, solitario, no meu cantho, pensando nas meninas que comi! Você tambem punhetas batte, Glauco, pensando na champagne quando ja expulsa a rolha, como que exporrando? Então estamos junctos! Empathia, talvez telepathia, nem sei bem qual termo mais se encaixa na questão!

168

DRINKING WINE SPO-DEE-O-DEE (Jerry Lee Lewis) Down in New Orleans where everything’s fine All them cats is drinkin’ that wine Drinkin’ that mess is their delight When they get drunk, they singin’ all night Drinkin’ wine spo-dee-o-dee drinkin’ wine Wine spo-dee-o-dee drinkin’ wine Wine spo-dee-o-dee drinkin’ wine Pass that bottle to me Now I’ve got a nickel, honey, you got a dime Let’s get together, gonna have a little wine I buy it by the gallon I buy it by the quart When you buy blackberry now you’re doin’ things smart Drinkin’ wine spo-dee-o-dee drinkin’ wine Wine spo-dee-o-dee drinkin’ wine Wine spo-dee-o-dee drinkin’ wine Pass that bottle to me Well, I was standing on Bourbon Street in Willie’s den Papa Willie wouldn’t sell but a little gin One cat wanted a bottle of wine He hooked that cat for a dollar and a dime Drinkin’ wine spo-dee-o-dee drinkin’ wine Wine spo-dee-o-dee drinkin’ wine Wine spo-dee-o-dee drinkin’ wine Pass that bottle to me Wine, wine, wine, Elderberry Wine, wine, wine, or Sherry Wine, wine, wine, Blackberry Wine, wine, wine, half an’ half Wine, wine, wine, oh boy Pass that bottle to me

169

MACCLADMANIACOS [8891] Você, Glaucão, que escreve tanta merda, na certa fan será daquella banda ingleza, que tem bocca suja à bessa! Sim, essa mesma! Alguem ja commentou que, numa latrinaria poesia, nem mesmo você, Glauco, conseguiu junctar tanto cocô num só banheiro, siquer nesses botecos onde estão os bebados cagando, vomitando, mijando ou exporrando todo o tempo! Concorda, menestrel? Então estamos nós quites e podemos tomar umas, sem risco de infectar nossa privada com esse incrivel nivel de cocô!

170

BLACK LATRINE (The Macc Lads) Summer time, piss was minging, turds were stinking, [full of flies Other times, foul and acrid, rank and rancid, pus and bile Everything obscene in the Black Latrine Dragonflies several species in the faeces and the mire In the grime, arses dribble, maggots wriggle, sludge and [slime There’s things you’ve never seen in the Black Latrine And the termites patrol through the turds around the bowl, Twenty years in quarantine for the Black Latrine So unclean, piss turned solid, dank and squalid, stench [is vile Black Latrine, flies lay more eggs in the durex and [the shite No one’s ever cleaned in the Black Latrine Foreskin cheese, stinking slurry, pubes and curry, [dysentry Upto your knees, fermented urine, smells like you’re in [A Lavatory A stench that stings your eyes and rots your teeth Diarrhoea down the walls, slimy turds upon the floor, There’s no sign on the stall, sewage piled against the door No one’s ever cleaned in the Black Latrine

171

SUMMARIO NOTA INTRODUCTORIA.................................. 7 DISSONNETTO PARA O GRUPPO GRIEVANCE COMMITTEE [2181].............................................. 9 LICK THE BOOT (Grievance Committee)................ 10 DISSONNETTO PARA O GRUPPO THE MACC LADS [2380]..... 11 BEER & SEX & CHIPS’N GRAVY [8826].................. 12 BEER & SEX & CHIPS ‘N’ GRAVY (The Macc Lads)....... 13 DISSONNETTO PARA O GRUPPO THE VIBRATORS [2428]..... 14 I NEED A SLAVE (The Vibrators)..................... 15 DISSONNETTO PARA O GRUPPO THE KINKS [2481]......... 16 LOLA (The Kinks)................................... 17 DISSONNETTO PARA O GRUPPO ROSE TATTOO [2490]....... 19 BRANDED [6299]..................................... 20 BRANDED (Rose Tattoo).............................. 21 DISSONNETTO PARA O GRUPPO DO LOU REED [2495]....... 23 VENUS IN FURS (Velvet Underground)................. 24 FLAGRANTES FRAGRANCIAS [3108]...................... 25 FAT BOB’S FEET (Toy Dolls)......................... 26 ENQUETE PARA BOQUETTE [4007]....................... 27 FELLATIO NEL, SON (The Macc Lads).................. 28 OITAVA GEMMA DO CINEMA [4064]...................... 30 COUSIN KEVIN (The Who)............................. 31 ALTO ASTRAL [4741]................................. 33 DESGRAÇA EM MASSA [7070]........................... 34 HOBO’S LULLABY (Goebel Reeves, gravado por Arlo Guthrie)........................................... 35 COM ASESINO ME AFFINO [4972]....................... 36 PUTA CON PITO! (Asesino)........................... 37 PERRO PRIMERO (Asesino)............................ 38 AND THE SUN WILL SHINE [5622]...................... 40 AND THE SUN WILL SHINE (Bee Gees, na voz de José Feliciano)..................................... 41 END OF THE WORLD [5684]............................ 42 END OF THE WORLD (Aphrodite’s Child)............... 43 WHEN A BLIND MAN CRIES [5703]...................... 44 WHEN A BLIND MAN CRIES (Deep Purple)............... 45 ROCKEIRO PICCADEIRO [5878]......................... 46

GOODBYE CRUEL WORLD (James Darren)................. 47 MEME DA INSOMNIA [5917]............................ 48 TOSSING AND TURNING (Ritchie Adams & Malou Rene, por Bobby Lewis)................................... 49 WEIRD DISSONNET [5932]............................. 51 WEIRD (Norman Greenbaum)........................... 52 MISCELLANEA DA PASSAGEM [6012]..................... 53 DONE TOO SOON (Neil Diamond)....................... 54 AMERICAN WOMAN [6073].............................. 55 AMERICAN WOMAN (The Guess Who)..................... 56 VAZIA PROPHECIA [6109]............................. 58 DIA DA ATLANTIDA [11.358].......................... 59 ATLANTIS (Donovan)................................. 60 YOU LOOK LIKE A GIRL [6168]........................ 62 ARE YOU A BOY OR ARE YOU A GIRL? (The Barbarians).. 63 TEACH ME MASTER [6339]............................. 65 TEACH ME TIGER (por April Stevens)................. 66 VACILLÃO [6341].................................... 67 THESE BOOTS ARE MADE FOR WALKING (por Nancy Sinatra) (ver 0059)..................... 68 QUEDA NOS INDICES [6379]........................... 69 NINETY-NINE-AND-ONE-HALF (Wilson Pickett).......... 70 MEMENTO HOMO [6422]................................ 71 MEN (Loudon Wainwright)............................ 72 PINK SUEDE SHOES [6465]............................ 73 CARO MASOCHISMO [6466]............................. 74 BLUE SUEDE SHOES (Carl Perkins) (ver 0059)......... 75 COISA QUALQUER [6504].............................. 77 ANYTHING (Eric Burdon & The Animals)............... 78 VESPERA DA DESTRUIÇÃO [6515]....................... 79 EVE OF DESTRUCTION (Barry McGuire)................. 80 I LOVE THE DEAD [6621]............................. 81 I LOVE THE DEAD (Alice Cooper)..................... 82 SIMPLE MAN [6745].................................. 83 SIMPLE MAN (Lynyrd Skynyrd)........................ 84 A SIMPLE MAN (Lobo)................................ 86 MY WALKING SHOES [6748]............................ 87 MY WALKING SHOES (em album da Nitty Gritty Dirt Band).............................................. 88

SWAMP MUSIC [6753]................................. 89 SWAMP MUSIC (Lynyrd Skynyrd)....................... 90 GIMME THREE STEPS [6756]........................... 91 GIMME THREE STEPS (Lynyrd Skynyrd)................. 92 MISSISSIPPI KID [6761]............................. 94 MISSISSIPPI KID (Lynyrd Skynyrd)................... 95 POISON WHISKEY [6762].............................. 96 POISON WHISKEY (Lynyrd Skynyrd).................... 97 MEMPHIS [6766]..................................... 98 MEMPHIS (Chuck Berry).............................. 99 TUTTI FRUTTI [6767]............................... 100 TUTTI FRUTTI (Little Richard)..................... 101 WHAT’D I SAY [6768]............................... 102 WHAT’D I SAY (Ray Charles)........................ 103 UNCHAIN MY HEART [6769]........................... 105 UNCHAIN MY HEART (Ray Charles).................... 106 NEVER DREAMED YOU’D LEAVE IN SUMMER [6771]........ 107 NEVER DREAMED YOU’D LEAVE IN SUMMER (Stevie Wonder)................................... 108 HEAVEN HELP US ALL [6772]......................... 109 INFRA FRATERNAL [6774]............................ 110 HEAVEN HELP US ALL (Stevie Wonder)................ 111 I’M SORRY [6776].................................. 113 I’M SORRY (gravação de Brenda Lee)................ 114 WOODSTOCK [6780].................................. 115 WOODSTOCK (Joni Mitchell)......................... 116 LUIZ LUIZ [6833].................................. 118 LOUIE LOUIE (Richard Berry and The Pharoahs)...... 119 THEY’RE COMING TO TAKE ME AWAY HA HA [6910]....... 120 THEY’RE COMING TO TAKE ME AWAY HA HA (Napoleon XIV).121 BAD BOY [6961].................................... 123 BAD BAD BOY (Nazareth)............................ 124 SOOKIE SOOKIE [6962].............................. 126 SOOKIE SOOKIE (Steppenwolf)....................... 127 ANECDOTA CARIBENHA (1/3) [8015]................... 128 SHAME AND SCANDAL IN THE FAMILY (Brown/Donaldson). 129 HOW MANY FRIENDS? (1/3) [8039].................... 130 HOW MANY FRIENDS (The Who)........................ 132 NOBODY ELECTED YOUR FAMILY (1/2) [8047]........... 134

PRESIDENTIAL RAG (Arlo Guthrie)................... 135 CHILENA CANTILENA (1/2) [8058].................... 136 VICTOR JARA (Arlo Guthrie)........................ 138 QUEM TEM UM SALSICHUDO TEM TUDO [8151]............ 140 A BASSET IS AN ASSET (Bronwyn Edwards Cryer)...... 141 ODE AMBULATORIAL (1/24) [8189].................... 143 THE DOCTOR (Loudon Wainwright).................... 147 RHAPSODIA LOUDONIANA [8370]....................... 149 SOMETIMES I FORGET (Loudon Wainwright)............ 150 RHAPSODIA CROSBYANA [8375]........................ 152 TRIAD (David Crosby).............................. 153 RHAPSODIA SEEGERIANA (1/2) [8384]................. 154 WHERE HAVE ALL THE FLOWERS GONE? (Pete Seeger).... 156 RHAPSODIA TOSHIANA (1/2) [8398]................... 157 BUSH DOCTOR (Peter Tosh).......................... 158 RHAPSODIA LENNONIANA (1/2) [8397]................. 160 JOHN SINCLAIR (John Lennon)....................... 161 BOTTLE OF WINE [8823]............................. 162 BOTTLE OF WINE (The Fireballs).................... 163 RED RED WINE [8824]............................... 164 RED RED WINE (Neil Diamond / UB40)................ 165 DRINKING WINE SPO-DEE-O-DEE [8825]................ 168 DRINKING WINE SPO-DEE-O-DEE (Jerry Lee Lewis)..... 169 MACCLADMANIACOS [8891]............................ 170 BLACK LATRINE (The Macc Lads)..................... 171

Casa de Ferreiro São Paulo 2026