Ia pegar na guitarra e sair para a rua. Arranhar uns acordes e acordar a vizinhança com aquela violência só ao alcance de quem tem uma capacidade vocal equivalente à de Jorge Coelho. Expor-me ao ridículo, trocado por miúdos. É um trabalho sujo mas alguém tem de o fazer. Pois bem, não sou eu. Alguém já se chegou à frente. Confesso que me saiu um peso dos ombros. Fiquem com Me and Boris the Bull:
FAR END OF THE WEEK (sem medos, à confiança, um clique no link, vamos lá, todos)
All along you had told me
It wasn't that I didn't believe
You said you had to leave for somewhere
You'd be back by the far end of the week.
I don't mind separation
It's good to stand on my own two feet
And I love your conversation,
Except when our eyes don't meet.
Don't you fly too far
You know it breaks my heart
Whether near or far
Love you anywhere you are.
The thoughts I have they turn to weary
I think my heart just missed a beat
I wonder if I'm gonna make it
To the far end of the week
When you called the night before Sunday
My quiet eyes began to see
The sound you make, makes me so happy
I forget the thousand miles between you and me