::17.3.04::
RELAXANDO...Eu já falei sobre a Aretha, já falei sobre essa música, já falei sobre coisas até demais esses dias. Por agora, fica só a letra (mais uma vez), e a IRRITAÇÃ maior do que tudo, da abundância de homem PRECÁRIO nesse mundo, da raiva, do ódio, enfim...Essas coisinhas básicas.
Do Right Woman, Do Right Man
Aretha Franklin
Take me to heart and I'll always love you
An nobody can make me do wrong
Take me for granted leaving love unshone
Makes will power weak and temptation strong
A woman's only human
You should understand
She's not just a play thing
She's flesh and blood just like her man
If ya wanna do right
this woman
You've gotta be a do right
All night man
Yeah - yeah they say that's it's a man's world
But you can't prove that by me
And as long as we're together baby
Show some respect for me
If ya wanna do right
this woman
You've gotta be a do right
All night man
:: Marcia Furriel 11:54 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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