Pantera Cor de Rosa

Este é o blog de Juliana Carpes Imperial, mais conhecida pelos desconhecidos como a Pantera Cor de Rosa por volta e meia ir correr toda de rosa.

quinta-feira, junho 04, 2009

Homenagem ao Diabo em Forma de Gente


A foto do Baal certamente o descreve melhor fisicamente do que a do Diablo (pobre Baal!). Sem falar que ele está muito mais para o senhor da destruição do que para o senhor do horror. Por isso, a foto acima. A homenagem ao sujeito pérfido é uma música pouco conhecida do Garbage, "Butterfly Collector".

Parece que mais gente já está percebendo que ele não é flor que se cheire. Eu não sei exatamente o que aprontou desta vez, mas já ouvi alguns comentários a boca pequena. Porém, infelizmente, vejo que algumas pessoas parecem se recusar a ver o que é óbvio. Será que são cegas ou o quê?

Ouça a música aqui. A letra está abaixo.

So you finally got what you wanted
You achieved your aim
By making you a walking name

And when you just can't get any higher
You use your senses
To suss out this week's climber

And the small fame that you've acquired
Has brought you into cult status
But to me you're still the collector

Chorus
There's tarts and whores but you're much more
You're a different kind cause you want their mind
And you just don't care cause you've got no brain
It's just a face on a pillowcase that thrills you

And you've started looking much older
And your fashion sense
Is second rate like your perfume

But to you in your own little dream world
You're still the queen
Of the butterfly collectors

You carry on cause it's all you know
You can't light a fire you can't cook or sew
You get from day to day by filling your head
But you surely must know the thrill between your legs
Has worn off

And I don't care about morals
Cause the world's insane
And we're all to blame anyway

And I don't feel any sorrow
Towards the kings and queens
Of the butterfly collectors

Chorus

You carry on cause it's all you know
You can't light a fire you can't cook or sew
You get from day to day by filling your head
But you surely must know the thrill between your legs
Has worn off

And I don't feel any sorrow
Towards the kings and queens
Of the butterfly collectors

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