Monday, December 26, 2005

Xmas card from a hooker in Minneapolis


Charlie, I'm pregnant
And living on 9th Street
Right above a dirty bookstore
Off Euclid Avenue
Stopped taking dope
Quit drinking whiskey
My old man plays the trombone
Works out at the track

Says that he loves me
Even though it's not his baby
Says that he'll raise him up
Like he would his own son
Gave me a ring that was worn by his mother
Takes me out dancing every Saturday night

Charlie, I think about you
Every time I pass the filling station
On account of all the grease
You used to wear in your hair
Still have that record
Little Anthony and The Imperials
Someone stole my record player
How do you like that?

Charlie, I almost went crazy
After Mario got busted
Went back to Omaha to live with my folks
But everyone I used to know is either dead or in prison
Came back to Minneapolis
This time I think I'm gonna stay

Charlie, I think I'm happy
For the first time since my accident
Wish I had all the money
We used to spend on dope
I'd buy me a used car lot
And I wouldn't sell any of them
Just drive a different car everyday
Depending on how I feel

Charlie, for Christ sakes
If you wanna know the truth of it
I don't have a husband
He don't play the trombone
I need to borrow money
To pay this lawyer
And Charlie, hey
I'll be eligible for parole
Come Valentines day

Christmas card from a hooker in Minneapolis (Waits)
Tom Waits

5 Comments:

Blogger Juan Avellana said...

Feliz Navidad, viejo amigo, y feliz nuevo año. A partir de ahora, tengo que ponerme al día con tu página, como con tantas otras cosas, pero lo que acabo de ver (¡una canción diaria!) es un regalo bien goloso para empezar.
Un abrazo largo como un año.

1:58 AM  
Blogger Portorosa said...

Wonderful! Both the picture and the lyrics (imagine if I could listen to the songs... tengo que solucionar lo del castpost)..

9:30 AM  
Blogger Ignacio said...

Feliz Navidad, Avellana. La página, como verás, ha estado más bien quieta antes de este brote musical; y en el futuro próximo creo que habrá más actividad en la otra. Un abrazo.

Porto, este lamento cazallero de Mr. Waits tiene usted que administrárselo en vena como antídoto/compensación al empalago (no se me malentienda, que yo el empalago navideño lo que más).

9:55 AM  
Blogger La donna è mobile said...

¿Se aceptan peticiones? ¿Siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii? (ella ha oído un sí) Pues quisiera escuchar mi favorita de saltar por las camas y los sofás, girar por tooooda la casa y bailar como una posesa con los críos:

Jingle Bells, de Gladys Knight & The Pips

Agradecida de Alicante, XDDDDDD

11:00 AM  
Blogger Ignacio said...

Estaba ya todo cuadrado, pero veremos de cumplir ;-)

11:43 AM  

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