Navalha? Já não se usa. Ofereço-te uma lãmina tripla ou quadrupla, que tal? Serve?
Cortar a barba! Boa ideia. Finalmente ouves os conselhos do avô.
De Guimarães com compaixão:Four o'clock in the afternoonand I didn't feel like very much.I said to myself, "Where are you golden boy,where is your famous golden touch?"I thought you knew whereall of the elephants lie down,I thought you were the crown princeof all the wheels in Ivory Town.Just take a look at your body now,there's nothing much to saveand a bitter voice in the mirror cries,"Hey, Prince, you need a shave."Now if you can manage to getyour trembling fingers to behave,why don't you try unwrappinga stainless steel razor blade?That's right, it's come to this,yes it's come to this,and wasn't it a long way down,wasn't it a strange way down?There's no hot waterand the cold is running thin.Well, what do you expect fromthe kind of places you've been living in?Don't drink from that cup,it's all caked and cracked along the rim.That's not the electric light, my friend,that is your vision growing dim.Cover up your face with soap, there,now you're Santa Claus.And you've got a gift for anyonewho will give you his applause.I thought you were a racing man,ah, but you couldn't take the pace.That's a funeral in the mirrorand it's stopping at your face.That's right, it's come to this,yes it's come to this,and wasn't it a long way down,ah wasn't it a strange way down?Once there was a pathand a girl with chestnut hair,and you passed the summerspicking all of the berries that grew there;there were times she was a woman,oh, there were times she was just a child,and you held her in the shadowswhere the raspberries grow wild.And you climbed the twilight mountainsand you sang about the view,and everywhere that you wanderedlove seemed to go along with you.That's a hard one to remember,yes it makes you clench your fist.And then the veins stand out like highways,all along your wrist.And yes it's come to this,it's come to this,and wasn't it a long way down,wasn't it a strange way down?You can still find a job,go out and talk to a friend.On the back of every magazinethere are those coupons you can send.Why don't you join the Rosicrucians,they can give you back your hope,you can find your love with diagramson a plain brown envelope.But you've used up all your couponsexcept the one that seemsto be written on your wristalong with several thousand dreams.Now Santa Claus comes forward,that's a razor in his mit;and he puts on his dark glassesand he shows you where to hit;and then the cameras pan,the stand in stunt man,dress rehearsal rag,it's just the dress rehearsal rag,you know this dress rehearsal rag,it's just a dress rehearsal rag.Um abraço,V.
Já tenho lâmina, mas falta a vontade de a usar.
Obrigado, Vitor. Na mouche. Se bem que Cohen tão depressa pode passar de fio condutor a um novelo impossível de desenrolar. Um abraço! (agradeço a compaixão, bati no fundo!)
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