Mas certamente que sim!

Há muito tempo que não ouvia Tom Waits. Lembrei-me dele ao passar pelo irmão lúcia.
Nada melhor, então, que Waltzing Matilda, numa gravação com mais de três décadas.

Letra de Tom Traubert’s Blues, aka Waltzing Matilda. Recomendo a Tom Waits Library aos leitores que quiserem rever Tom Waits ou aprender sobre Tom Waits, uma figura ímpar com uma impressionante e multifacetada carreira. Enfim, caminho.

Wasted and wounded
It ain’t what the moon did
I’ve got what I paid for now
See ya tomorrow
Hey Frank, can I borrow
A couple of bucks from you…
To go waltzing Matilda, waltzing Matilda
You’ll go waltzing Matilda with me

I’m an innocent victim of a blinded alley
And I’m tired of all these soldiers here
No one speaks English
And everything’s broken
And my Stacys are soaking wet…
To go waltzing Matilda, waltzing Matilda
You’ll go waltzing Matilda with me

Now the dogs are barking
And the taxi cab’s parking
A lot they can do for me
I begged you to stab me
You tore my shirt open
And I’m down on my knees tonight
Old Bushmill’s I staggered
You buried the dagger in
Your silhouette window light…
To go waltzing Matilda, waltzing Matilda
You’ll go waltzing Matilda with me

Now I lost my Saint Christopher
Now that I’ve kissed her
And the one-armed bandit knows
And the maverick Chinamen
And the cold-blooded signs
And the girls down by the strip-tease shows…
Go waltzing Matilda, waltzing Matilda
You’ll go waltzing Matilda with me

No, I don’t want your sympathy
The fugitives say that the streets aren’t for dreaming now
Manslaughter dragnets and the ghosts that sell memories
They want a piece of the action anyhow…
Go waltzing Matilda, waltzing Matilda
You’ll go waltzing Matilda with me

And you can ask any sailor
And the keys from the jailor
And the old men in wheelchairs know
That Matilda’s the defendant
She killed about a hundred
And she follows wherever you may go…
Waltzing Matilda, waltzing Matilda
You’ll go waltzing Matilda with me

And it’s a battered old suitcase
To a hotel someplace
And a wound that will never heal
No prima donna
The perfume is on
An old shirt that is stained with blood and whiskey
And goodnight to the street sweepers
The night watchman flame keepers
And goodnight to Matilda too