outra pérola escondida em "bullinamingvase", seguramente um dos discos da minha vida, é esta canção de roy harper, talvez o mais solitário de todos os meus heróis na música. prezo-o também por isso.

Here comes the patter of rain on my window

I've woken again to the world on my pillow

Wondering how I can beg, steal or borrow

A girl who won't fight me but quietly follow.

Straight as a die and as clear as a crystal

I come from a temple as trod as a footstool

To hiding a brothel inside a cathedral

The man in the mirror, the fool in the ideal.

Pulling apart with a speechless unweaving

Dignity reels in the hearts of the grieving

Walking the touch line twixt truth and deceiving

A tear in a smile and a while wrenching leaving.

Oh help me now, my long lost love, the dusk has drawn my soul

Relishing the autumn

Maybe it's the tragedy in loving that I live

Cherishing the lonesome.

I'd like to dance and sing my song upon a summer mountain

With just a quiet girl along for daisy petal counting

To set our sails into the West, the dream of all our forebears

To where the sun is at his best, gathering us lovers.

Oh help me now, my long lost love, the dusk has drawn my soul

Relishing the autumn

Maybe it's the tragedy in loving that I live

Cherishing the lonesome.

Cherishing the lonesome

Cherishing the lonesome.

You stand in the doorway with tears in your sorrow

Saying there must be some way to tomorrow

And just for a few hours I think I can borrow

A girl who won't fight me but quietly follow.