Killers, Angels, Refugees ( 29 )

"Dirty Boulevard" ( Lou Reed )

Pedro lives out of Wilshire Hotel
Looks out a window without glass
Walls are made of cardboard, newspapers on his feet
The old man beats him 'cause he too tired to beg
He's got nine brothers and sisters
They're brought up on their knees
Hard to run when a coat hanger beats you on the thighs
Pedro dreams of being older killing the old man
Slim chance he's going to the boulevard
He gonna get in, to the dirty boulevard
I'm gonna get out, to the dirty boulevard
Going down, to the dirty boulevard, get it on
This room cost two thousand dollars a month
You believe it baby, it's true
Somewhere there is a landlord living that wets his pants, wets his pants
No one dreams of being a doctor or lawyer or anything
They just dream of dealing on the boulevard
Give me your hungry, your tired, your poor piss on 'em
That's what the statue of bigotry says
All you poor huddled masses
Why don't you just go club 'em to death?
Get it over with
Dump 'em on the boulevard, and get it out now
I'm going down
Get it, get it, get it out
Going down
You ever had rage in your heart?
You ever had some rage in your heart?
You ever had rage in your heart?
Have you ever had rage in your heart?
Outside it's a bright night
There's an opera, Lincoln Center
The klieg lights shoot out over the Manhattan skyline
But the lights are out on the mean
Small kid stands by the Lincoln Tunnel
Selling plastic roses for a buck
Traffic's backed up to Thirty-Ninth Street
The TV whores are calling the cops out to get sucked
Back at the Wilshire, Pedro sits there dreaming
Found a book on magic in a garbage can
Looks at the pictures, looks up at the cracked ceiling
By the count of three I'll get outta here and fly away
I wanna fly, fly away
I wanna fly from this dirty boulevard
Fly, fly, I wanna get outta, get outta, get outta here
Fly fly, fly away
Fly fly, fly away
Fly fly, fly away
I wanna fly, fly, fly
I wanna fly, fly, fly
Fly away

Dir-me-ão: sempre foi assim! É verdade. Mas o estado do mundo hoje, assemelha-se cada vez mais ao Dirty Blvd do Lou Reed dos três ismos - pessimismo, niilismo, cinismo. "New York" é um álbum enorme, ainda que muito cinzento.