Un quarto all'una, prendo la chitarra dalle corde rosse e provo a strimpellare Tom Waits e la sua soldier's things, è struggente, devastante ...e cazzo mi viene da piangere mentre suono.
Davenports and kettle drums And swallowtail coats Tablecloths and patent-leather shoes Bathing suits and bowling balls And clarinets and rings All this radio really needs is a fuse A tinker, a tailor A soldier's things His rifle, his boots full of rocks Oh, and this one is for bravery And this one is for me And everything's a dollar In this box Cufflinks and hubcaps Trophies and paperbacks It's good transportation But the brakes aren't so hot Neckties and boxing gloves This jackknife is rusted You can pound that dent out on the hood A tinker, a tailor A soldier's things His rifle, his boots full of rocks Oh, and this one is for bravery Oh, and this one is for me And everything's a dollar In this box
