Um dia frio (por fora e por dentro)

Não quero saturar, também, mais esta conversa. Mas, no cansaço do dia, houve algo maior. Uma ausência desconfortável entre os cafés, os cigarros, os apontamentos, a música colada aos ouvidos durante tantas horas. No cansaço do dia, houve qualquer coisa que cansou mais, que doeu mais fundo.
Talvez falta de fé (sim, dessa).
Mas não faz mal. Há sempre a imagem simbólica que, não sendo verdade, permite a deliciosa vã glória. Não será antes cobardia?!...Não interessa....

"Baby i've been here before
I've seen this room and i've walked this floor
I used to live alone before i knew you
I've seen your flag on the marble arch
But love is not a victory march
It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah

Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah ....

Well there was a time when you let me know
What's really going on below
But now you never show that to me do you
But remember when i moved in you
And the holy dove was moving too
And every breath we drew was hallelujah

Well, maybe there's a god above
But all i've ever learned from love
Was how to shoot somebody who outdrew you
It's not a cry that you hear at night
It's not somebody who's seen the light
It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah

Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah .... "

(J. Buckley)