Peter Pan, Coringa... quantas mais faces lúdicas uma pessoa pode ter?
Admiro quem veste o personagem, ou simplesmente assim é, a exemplo dos seres que um dia inspiraram tais figuras do imaginário infantil, da literatura, ficção, cultura popular – como for. E se isso for só fachada para disfarçar qualquer outro sentimento ou intenção? Como saber o que não é dito, o que fica confuso, perdido nas entrelinhas de discursos prolixos, ou em pequenos gestos de seus feitos?
Por vezes, o artista pode ser seu próprio titereiro, conduzindo a história, manipulando também as demais marionetes das fábulas da vida. Que rumo escolherá ao seu próprio destino? Optará pela sorte grande ou ficará com as certezas do caminho? Que granfinale estará preparando? Gostaria de aplaudir de pé não só o fim, mas daqui por diante poder vibrar com o desenrolar deste espetáculo que numa voraz efemeridade tanto me emocionou e evolveu em tão pouco tempo.
Sem dúvidas, esta canção é para você:
Standing on the waters casting your bread
While the eyes of the idol with the iron head are glowing.Distant ships sailing into the mist,You were born with a snake in both of your fists while a hurricane was blowing.Freedom just around the corner for youBut with the truth so far off, what good will it do?Jokerman dance to the nightingale tune,Bird fly high by the light of the moon,Oh, oh, oh, Jokerman.
So swiftly the sun sets in the sky,You rise up and say goodbye to no one.Fools rush in where angels fear to tread,Both of their futures, so full of dread, you don't show one.Shedding off one more layer of skin,Keeping one step ahead of the persecutor within.
Jokerman dance to the nightingale tune,Bird fly high by the light of the moon,Oh, oh, oh, Jokerman.
You're a man of the mountains, you can walk on the clouds,Manipulator of crowds, you're a dream twister.You're going to Sodom and GomorrahBut what do you care? Ain't nobody there would want to marry yoursister.Friend to the martyr, a friend to the woman of shame,You look into the fiery furnace, see the rich man without anyname.
Jokerman dance to the nightingale tune,Bird fly high by the light of the moon,Oh, oh, oh, Jokerman.
Well, the Book of Leviticus and Deuteronomy,The law of the jungle and the sea are your only teachers.In the smoke of the twilight on a milk-white steed,Michelangelo indeed could've carved out your features.Resting in the fields, far from the turbulent space,Half asleep near the stars with a small dog licking your face.
Jokerman dance to the nightingale tune,Bird fly high by the light of the moon,Oh. oh. oh. Jokerman.Well, the rifleman's stalking the sick and the lame,Preacherman seeks the same, who'll get there first isuncertain.Nightsticks and water cannons, tear gas, padlocks,Molotov cocktails and rocks behind every curtain,False-hearted judges dying in the webs that they spin,Only a matter of time 'til night comes steppin' in.Jokerman dance to the nightingale tune,Bird fly high by the light of the moon,Oh, oh, oh, Jokerman.
It's a shadowy world, skies are slippery gray,A woman just gave birth to a prince today and dressed him inscarlet.He'll put the priest in his pocket, put the blade to the heat,Take the motherless children off the streetAnd place them at the feet of a harlot.Oh, Jokerman, you know what he wants,Oh, Jokerman, you don't show any response.Jokerman dance to the nightingale tune,Bird fly high by the light of the moon,Oh, oh, oh, Jokerman.Adoro sua magia. Como borboleta, a seguiria.
