Cont by Tim Minchin
Esta primeira, com um tema sempre muito actual é possívelmente a minha favorita. Dediquei-a ao meu pai, na rede ‘WeChat’ chinesa, no dia do funeral do meu pai. Fui forçada a apagala porque os chineses não compreendem estas letras, disseram-me. Deve ter que ver com a exterminação dos Uyghur, entre outros. Bem, só quero frisar que sou cidadã livre e democrata e este domínio é meu!
A segunda, chama-se “Naughty” do musical “Matilda” que assisti em Londres, em Fevereiro, neste ano trágico para todos. Faz-me lembrar o meu namorado e todos os colegas e amigos (pretos, brancos, amarelos, minorcas e gigantes!) que tenho espalhados pelo mundo. Nesta peça, a minha “Matilda” bilingue era Russa! Foi lindo e recomendo. Um dia hei-de ir ao Lake Baikal na Siberia a Vladivostok e a Moscovo visitar os meus colegas.
Há comboios que fazem esta rota e deve ser sensacional viajar de Moscovo a Vladivostok. O Trans-Siberiano! Os russos vieram habitar Ha’erbin (Harbin) para construir esta linha. Hoje, os chineses estão a construir uma mega ponte que liga Harbin a Vladivostok. Um viva ao progresso e as nações unidas.
Deus queira que os teatros no Reino Unido e por todo o mundo reabram o quanto antes que esta abstinência é pior que ressaca!
Deixo o link da Royal Shakespeare Company com desejo de que os reencontros sejam para breve. Venda de bilhetes, e outras informações, aqui.
[Intro, spoken]
So, yeah, this is, um, this is a new song I’ve written. It’s kind of a sort of jaunty swing number and it’s called, um, “Cont”
[Verse 1]
I don’t like Jews
…
Neither should you
They’re ethically and spiritually poor, that’s a fact
I don’t like black people
…
It’s just not acceptable
There should be some kind of law that is that
[Verse 2]
And I get the shits with Inuits
…
…
They get on my tits, the little bastards
And women
…
Just make me so mad, does that make me bad?
Am I bad, is that bad?
[Verse 3]
And the fuckin’ Italians, I just cannot stand them
…
They really inspire my rancor
Cheating fucking Italian wankers
And lesbians and the bi-curious
Make me furious
…
It’s not their fault, I know, but still… grr!
[Verse 4]
And fuckin’ Christians
…
I just want to punch ’em in their faces
…
And I’m not comfortable with Muslims on the tube
…
And I can’t stand publicly breastfeeding mothers
…
[Verse 5]
And I hate gays who talk camp-ly
…
And the fuckin’ Chinese make me angry
…
[Bridge]
I hate the rich…
I hate the poor…
I hate bitches…
I hate whores…
[Outro]
I hate Africans…
I hate Japanese…
I hate the disabled…
I hate Burmese…
Yeah, I don’t care about your color or your creed
I will judge you for no reason…
[Interlude, spoken]
Is that… is that… no, just stop.
[Heckler: I love you!] Ohhh. Oh, fuck. Sorry, I… it’s, ugh, that’s the trouble with trying out new stuff. It’s… half the year- I had half the lyrics covered up. I thought I was… I was only… I think we, I think we should probably do it again; I think if we leave it there, I might run the risk of being misconstrued. It’s not even called “Cont”, it’s called “Context”!
[Verse 1]
I don’t like Jews
Who make and distribute kiddy porn
Neither should you
They’re ethically and spiritually poor, that’s a fact
I don’t like black people
Who risk billions of other peoples’ money gambling on future derivatives
It’s just not acceptable
There should be some kind of law that is that
[Verse 2]
And I get the shits with Inuits
Who find out what job I do
And regale me with a racist joke or two
They get on my tits, the little bastards
And women
Who judge other women for not holding the same views as them vis-a-vis career and mothering
Just make me so mad, does that make me bad?
Am I bad, is that bad?
[Verse 3]
And the fuckin’ Italians, I just cannot stand them
When they take a dive in the penalty box, denying Australia its World Cup spot
They really inspire my rancor
Cheating fuckin’ Italian wankers
And lesbians and the bi-curious
Make me furious
When their pride parade blocked the traffic flow when my baby had asthma and had to go to the hospital
It’s not their fault, I know, but still… grr!
[Verse 4]
And fuckin’ Christians
Who lean on their horn when my wife is being cautious at an intersection
I just want to punch them in their faces, although my anger is fleeting
I understand their frustration, she’s a little too hesitant
And I’m not comfortable with Muslims on the tube
Who looks over my shoulder when I’m reading
And I can’t stand publicly breastfeeding mothers
Who smoke cigarettes while they’re feeding
[Verse 5]
And I hate gays who talk camp-ly
During the final act of King Lear
And the fuckin’ Chinese make me angry
When they make sham erection potions out of the horns of endangered rhinoceros
[Bridge]
I hate the rich who use their wealth as an excuse for bigotry
I hate the poor who use their poverty as an excuse for bigotry
I hate bitches who get rabies and try to bite babies
I hate whores who won’t accept Visa
[Outro]
I hate African racists
I hate Japanese homophobes
I hate those disabled rapists
I hate Burmese cats
Yeah, I don’t care about your color or your creed
I will judge you for no reason
But your deeds!
[spoken]
So, um…
Tim Minchin
[MATILDA]
Jack and Jill went up the hill
To fetch a pail of water, so they say
Their subsequent fall was inevitable
They never stood a chance—
They were written that way
Innocent victims of their story!
Like Romeo and Juliet
It’s written in the stars before they even met
That love and fate and a touch of stupidity
Would rob them of their hope of living happily
The endings are often a little bit gory
I wonder why they didn’t just change their story
We’re told we have to do as we’re told, but surely
Sometimes you have to be a little bit naughty
Just because you find that life’s not fair, it
Doesn’t mean that you just have to grin and bear it
If you always take it on the chin and wear it
Nothing will change
Even if you’re little, you can do a lot, you
Mustn’t let a little thing like “little” stop you
If you sit around and let them get on top, you
Might as well be saying
You think that it’s okay
And that’s not right!
Cinderella, in the cellar
Didn’t have to do much, as far as I can tell
Her godmother was a two-thirds fairy
Suddenly her lot was a lot less scary
But what if you haven’t got a fairy to fix it?
Sometimes you have to make a little bit of mischief
Just because you find that life’s not fair, it
Doesn’t mean that you just have to grin and bear it
If you always take it on the chin and wear it
Nothing will change
Even if you’re little, you can do a lot, you
Mustn’t let a little thing like “little” stop you
If you sit around and let them get on top, you
Might as well be saying
You think that it’s okay
And that’s not right!
And if it’s not right
You have to put it right
In the slip of a bolt, there’s a tiny revolt
The seed of war in the creak of a floorboard
A storm can begin with the flap of a wing
The tiniest mite packs the mightiest sting
Every day starts with the tick of a clock
All escapes start with the click of a lock
If you’re stuck in your story and want to get out
You don’t have to cry, you don’t have to shout
Cause if you’re little you can do a lot, you
Mustn’t let a little thing like “little” stop you
If you sit around and let them get on top, you
Won’t change a thing
Just because you find that life’s not fair, it
Doesn’t mean that you just have to grin and bear it
If you always take it on the chin and wear it
You might as well be saying
You think that it’s okay
And that’s not right
And if it’s not right
You have to put it right
But nobody else is gonna put it right for me
Nobody but me is going to change my story
Sometimes you have to be a little bit naughty
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