... a propósito da super-lua ...

uma das grandes canções de kozelek na fase sun kil moon. e gosto imenso deste clip, 
com uma animação de aleksandr petrov baseada em "o velho e o mar" de hemingway.



i sit here and wait

on the banks of the carquinez strait

watchin’ pelicans swish

for a beak of sunning king fish

and i meditate

up shore from the golden gate

watchin’ sea lions bask in the sunshine

and find that my eyes

can still be awed and surprised

all night i hear wails

of the union pacific rails

of alley cat scraps

of lost baby humpbacks

of incoming ships

in from their epic long trips

and of mother’s dying these sounds never leave

be there for them

spend every moment you can

and love your girl dearly

look deep into her soul

and say that i love you

before your body turns cold

i love my girl dearly

and her little dog boo

we’re a small pack

but hey we’re happy too

i sing her a song i write her a poem

i gave her my bed and the keys to my home

whenever we want

we’ll just pick up and go

out to the forests

to the mountains of el dorado

or take morning walks

along the rivers that shine

like old silver dollars

buffalo nickles and dimes

but one day she may leave if i lie or i cheat

but i hope that she don’t

‘cause i need her so

i tie on my bait

on pier on the carquinez strait

with others i cast

sharing some time and some laughs

i come home so proud

when my stringer is heavy and full

when the night crickets chirp

and they shut down the old arsenal

and my wonderful love

she’ll cook my favorite dishes

dungeness crab

and a plate of pan fried king fish

and we’ll fall asleep when our stomachs are full

and in the mornin’ i’ll wish
for a bigger catch of king fish

sentia-me melhor se soubesse que mark kozelek não tocava hoje à noite canções como esta. a sério.

you moved up near the winery

i'm down by the oil refinery

you left my rags for his riches

left a note best wishes

our cats still go out at night

coolin’ in the moonlight

and the lights of martinez

scatter on the carquinez

i play guitar ‘til morning light

alone with it i've built my life

met some lovers through my skills

some have lasted, other just fill time

remembering you there with me

taking walks along the sea

years fly by cursing us all

end of summer, end of fall, winter, spring

listening to almeida play pavane for a dead princess

tárrega and albéniz and his own discantus

santos versus benítez

espada versus quevas

ray leonard versus duran no más no más

my tv glows, my ceiling fan hums

iron mike broke bones,

julian bream played the chaconne

bobby fischer took rooks

smokin’ joe threw hooks

robert burns wrote poems

ed gein dug up bones

martin luther had a dream

you never did anything

you’re up there in the vineyards

using some pretty words

eat at french laundry, burnin’ through money

and i’m here eating pistachio nuts

over by the taco truck

scribblin’ words on receipts

just go on and repeat

i walk along the service stops

and the antique shops

come home in the evening

hear the dogs howlin'

era o único nome que me faria ir a um festival no porto mas, dado só se venderem passes para os três dias (com custo acima de cem euros), desculpa-me mark kozelek, ficas agendado para a próxima... e olha, vou ver o kurt wagner primeiro.

A pillow lays on cold cement

A blanket by a broken vent

She's there a while

And then she's gone

I'm away for weeks

Arrive at night

She hears my steps

Turns off the light and runs

No mind at all, more space than I need

It's just me among the weeds

Among the ghosts

Among the leaves

We've never met but she's a girl

Romance paper books

The floor is covered

In long blonde curls

On afternoons I walk the graves

The rusted cars, the mine shaft caves

See a girl sadly unkempt

A child of neglect

Under moons I pass the tombs

Cross the highways, smell the fumes

See a girl frighteningly gaunt

Somebody didn't want

How do I tell her I don't care

If she sleeps downstairs?

I see her on my errand runs

Looking nervous like a young Mia Farrow

Walk along the gas stops

Window browsing pawn shops

Guns, bows and arrows

Up on past the Halfway house

Past the signs Eighty South

Buttercup and Carrows

Drinking Wild Irish Rose

At the dead end of the road

Sleeping with the sparrows

When evening comes I play guitar

For the planets and the stars

I leave the porch light on

Like I do when I'm gone

Winter, spring, summer, fall

Basement's yours, have a ball

There's always room for you there

Really baby I don't care

um dia escreverei aqui qualquer coisa sobre a música de mark kozelek 
(que, a par de bill callahan e kurt wagner, completa o meu trio de "americanos tranquilos"). 
mas hoje só quero dizer: um dia feliz, pai (i love my dad).



when i was young my father taught me not to gloat

if i came home too proud of myself i’d get wrestled to the floor and choked

but i forgive him for that

he was an 8th grade drop-out and i was bein’ a brat

i forgive him i do

i know that he loves me and he knows i love him too

when i was young my father told me to each his own

the lady said as she kissed the cow some like the fiddle some like the trombone

and i live by that rule

your trip is your trip and my trip is my trip too

yeah, i'll mind my own business

i’ll have an o’doul’s and my friend here will have a guiness

i love my dad

your kid goes to the private berkeley school with one black kid

my kid goes to the public school came home with cracked ribs

and when my kid's 18

he'll be out there like i was and probably chasing his dreams

and when your kid's 22

he'll have an internship at a law firm and hey that's okay too

when i was 5 i came home from kindergarten crying cause they sat me

next to an albino my dad said son everyone's different, you gotta love em all equally

and then my dad sat me down

he said you gotta love all people pink red black or brown

and then just after dinner he played me

the album they only come out at night by edgar winter

when i was young my dad taught me the beauty of patience

we'd go and hang with his friend billy brislin all day in his steubenville basement

we'd watch wrestling matches on tv and billy couldn't move cause he was handicapped

and i learned to shoot the shit and how to care for those in need and how to show respect

when i was a kid my dad brought home a guitar he got from sears

i took lessons from the neighbor lady but it wasn't going anywhere

he went and got me a good teacher

and in no time at all i was getting better

i can play just fine

i still practice a lot but not as much as nels cline

when i was young my dad told me to pay gossip no mind

when people talk bad on you you gotta flick it off your shoulder like a fly

learn to pick your punches

don't get in no tussles or no dead end ditches

life is short young man

get out there and make the best of it while you can

i ain't trying to say my dad was some kind of a perfect saint

when something set him off i’d hit the floor quicker than what mike tyson did to ricky spain

i’d hit the floor so fast

but that was so long ago and we both moved past

my life is pretty good

and i owe it to him my dad did the best he could

i love you dad