::15.7.03::
DESOVA 3 - A LETRA
Just one of those Things
Cole Porter
(essa é a versão que a Ella canta)
As Dorothy Parker once said to her boyfriend: "Fare thee well!"
As Columbus announced when he knew he was bounced: "It was swell,
Isabelle, swell!"
As Abelard said to Heloise: "Don't forget to drop a line to me, please."
As Juliet cried in her Romeo's ear: "Romeo, why not face the fact, my
dear?"
It was just one of those things, just one of those crazy flings,
One of those bells that now and then rings,
Just one of those things.
It was just one of those nights, just one of those fabulous flights,
A trip to moon on gossamer wings, just one of those things.
If we'd thought a bit of the end of it
When we started painting the town,
We'd have been aware that our love affair
Was too hot not to cool down.
So, goodbye, dear, and amen!
Here's hoping we meet now and then.
It was great fun, but it was just one of those things!
:: Marcia Furriel 3:39 p.m.
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"...[R]eturning to the Red Drum for sets, to hear Bird, whom I saw distinctly digging Mardou several times also myself directly into my eye looking to search if I was really the great writer I thought myself to be as if he knew my thoughts and ambitions or remembered me from other night clubs and other coasts, other Chicagos--not a challenging look but the king and founder of the bop generation at least the sound of it in digging his audience digging his eyes, the secret eyes him-watching, as he just pursed his lips and let great lungs and immortal fingers work, his eyes separate and interested and humane, the kindest jazz musician there could be while being and therefore naturally the greatest--watching Mardou and me in the infancy of our love and probably wondering why, or knowing it wouldn't last, or seeing who it was would be hurt, as now, obviously, but not quite yet, it was Mardou whose eyes were shining in my direction, though I could not have known and now do not definitely know--except the one fact, on the way home, the session over the beer in the Mask drunk we went home on the Third Street bus sadly through night and throb knock neons and when I suddenly leaned over her to shout something further (in her secret self as later confessed) her heart leapt to smell the "sweetness of my breath" (quote) and suddenly she almost loved me--"
DO LIVRO
The Subterraneans
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