Primeiro Ministro

Temos um Primeiro que recita Alexandre O'Neill. Que diz bem do Saramago, do 25 de Abril (sempre) e que volta a recitar O'Neill, desta vez ajudado por um pequeno bloco de notas. E ainda há quem diga que o "país cultural" vai mal... Melhor do que isto só se a Odete Santos fosse Presidente da República... (sic) ou o Quim Barreiros.

Penso, assustado, no que se vai seguir... Morais Sarmento a declamar o "Adeus" do Eugénio de Andrade, Paulo Portas "A Carta da Paixão" de Herberto Helder... Ou, quem sabe, a Manuela Ferreira Leite, logo à noite no Coliseu a cantar a plenos pulmões:

Patchwork

I know it's wrong
I know it's selfish

It's such a short life

With so little time
You know this pattern
Patchwork of any direction
Cobbled together
In odd shape and size

Take my hand, we'll walk through this together
But my hand gets sweaty
You somehow slip away
Try to call you, but I don't call too loud, no
Try to love, and never look that hard

Chorus:
Cos this blue's a swirling ocean
The green: the ambition
The red is the guilt
There's a lot of red

I know it's wrong
I know it's selfish
It's such a short life
So little time
Try to call you, but I don't call too loud, no
Try to love, and never look that hard

Chorus

The yellow is my sunshine
Comes out on odd occasion
Barely enough to keep you around

Tindersticks