Que fique a saber-se que muitas das minhas "colegas" cantoras, mesmo quando são americanas e louras (um preconceito injusto, como todos os preconceitos), não são parvas.
Apreciem esta jovem, Pink de seu nome, dedicando tão "simpaticamente" uma canção ao seu presidente.
Se não estiverem muito à vontade com o inglês, o vídeo tem legendas em francês. Se também não forem lá com o francês, imaginem apenas a minha loura colega, cantando numa lingua qualquer, desancando "miseravelmente" o criminoso de guerra, Geoge W. Bush.
Esta cantiga é daquelas que até fazem doer. Boa audio-visão!
(Na dúvida, aqui fica a letra. O vídeo está "lá ao fundo")
"Dear Mr. President"
(feat. Indigo Girls)
Dear Mr. President,
Come take a walk with me.
Let's pretend we're just two people and
You're not better than me.
I'd like to ask you some questions if we can speak honestly.
What do you feel when you see all the homeless on the street?
Who do you pray for at night before you go to sleep?
What do you feel when you look in the mirror?
Are you proud?
How do you sleep while the rest of us cry?
How do you dream when a mother has no chance to say goodbye?
How do you walk with your head held high?
Can you even look me in the eye
And tell me why?
Dear Mr. President,
Were you a lonely boy?
Are you a lonely boy?
Are you a lonely boy?
How can you say
No child is left behind?
We're not dumb and we're not blind.
They're all sitting in your cells
While you pave the road to hell.
What kind of father would take his own daughter's rights away?
And what kind of father might hate his own daughter if she were gay?
I can only imagine what the first lady has to say
You've come a long way from whiskey and cocaine.
How do you sleep while the rest of us cry?
How do you dream when a mother has no chance to say goodbye?
How do you walk with your head held high?
Can you even look me in the eye?
Let me tell you 'bout hard work
Minimum wage with a baby on the way
Let me tell you 'bout hard work
Rebuilding your house after the bombs took them away
Let me tell you 'bout hard work
Building a bed out of a cardboard box
Let me tell you 'bout hard work
Hard work
Hard work
You don't know nothing 'bout hard work
Hard work
Hard work
Oh
How do you sleep at night?
How do you walk with your head held high?
Dear Mr. President,
You'd never take a walk with me.
Would you?
(feat. Indigo Girls)
Dear Mr. President,
Come take a walk with me.
Let's pretend we're just two people and
You're not better than me.
I'd like to ask you some questions if we can speak honestly.
What do you feel when you see all the homeless on the street?
Who do you pray for at night before you go to sleep?
What do you feel when you look in the mirror?
Are you proud?
How do you sleep while the rest of us cry?
How do you dream when a mother has no chance to say goodbye?
How do you walk with your head held high?
Can you even look me in the eye
And tell me why?
Dear Mr. President,
Were you a lonely boy?
Are you a lonely boy?
Are you a lonely boy?
How can you say
No child is left behind?
We're not dumb and we're not blind.
They're all sitting in your cells
While you pave the road to hell.
What kind of father would take his own daughter's rights away?
And what kind of father might hate his own daughter if she were gay?
I can only imagine what the first lady has to say
You've come a long way from whiskey and cocaine.
How do you sleep while the rest of us cry?
How do you dream when a mother has no chance to say goodbye?
How do you walk with your head held high?
Can you even look me in the eye?
Let me tell you 'bout hard work
Minimum wage with a baby on the way
Let me tell you 'bout hard work
Rebuilding your house after the bombs took them away
Let me tell you 'bout hard work
Building a bed out of a cardboard box
Let me tell you 'bout hard work
Hard work
Hard work
You don't know nothing 'bout hard work
Hard work
Hard work
Oh
How do you sleep at night?
How do you walk with your head held high?
Dear Mr. President,
You'd never take a walk with me.
Would you?
8 comentários:
Pois não, com este "discurso" o Snr. Presidente nunca iria dar um passeio com a Pink....
Mas.... também há "sem abrigo" nos States?
Where the hell is the bloody American dream?
Abreijos
Ele não dorme, nem está acordado, está sempre em vinho....de alho!
Quando passeia vai sempre acompanhado...com a vara!
José manangão
Para quem não percebe a letra não poderias fazer a tradução ?
Lindíssima canção.
Uma intervenção política realista, que o “sr. presidente” nunca ouvirá e jamais irá com ela a lugar nenhum!
GR
No «meu tempo» chamavamos-lhes «canções de intervenção»,ou «canções de protesto» - e eram, como esta é.
A canção é linda, a cantora também... e tem uma voz que me faz lembrar... não sei que bela voz, e é bom haver quem nos lembre que no país mais «poderoso e rico do paneta» a miséria é muita.
Obrigado Samuel, um abraço.
Apesar de "pink", oh corzinha que me lembras... a piquena chega-lhe forte e feio!
What kind of father would take his own daughter's rights away?
And what kind of father might hate his own daughter if she were gay?
I can only imagine what the first lady has to say
You've come a long way from whiskey and cocaine.
Estes versinhos vão mesmo bem hoje, Dia do Pai, para dedicar ao Bushinho!
Abraço.
Uma canção de intervenção, sem dúvida.
Falha minha pensar que não existiam canções de intervenção nos EUA.
Ora aí está, como a luta pela verdade pode assumir diferentes rostos, diferentes formas, diferentes povos.
Bom post, Samuel.
beijinhos
Que engraçado, estive para pôe este vídeo ontem no meu blog, mas já cheguei à conclusão que quem nos visita gosta pouco de ver vídeos, e não pus.
Uma pena!
Abrijinhos
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