Como sou uma princesa do mais puro sangue azul tenho toda a propriedade, pujanca e caganca para dizer estas coisas: o Mel Torme e o Sinatra escreveram esta musica a pensar aqui na yours truly. Em dias como de hoje, em que falamos com os amigos na Comporta e em Moledo, que se esticam ao sol enquanto por aqui o Outono ja espreita, da me assim uma nostalgia paquidermica. Mas como nao ha tempo para essas minudencias, ligo o Sinatra no cantante, abro um Quinta da Bacalhoa, courtesy de um coracao generoso, subdito aqui do Palacio, ergo o copo a minha saude, e sorrio.

Apesar dos pesares, lucky me...

Um premio a quem melhor souber decifar o subtexto desta musiquinha. Ca vao as letrinhas...



The lady is a Tramp

She gets too hungry, for dinner at eight

She loves the theater, but doesn't come late

She'd never bother, with people she'd hate

That's why the lady is a tramp

Doesn't like crap games, with barons and earls

Won't go to Harlem, in ermine and pearls

Won't dish the dirt, with the rest of those girls

That's why the lady is a tramp


She loves the free, fresh wind in her hair

Life without care

She's broke, but it's o'k

She hates California, it's cold and it's damp

That's why the lady is a tramp


Doesn't like dice games, with sharpies and frauds

Won't go to Harlem, in Lincolns or Fords

Won't dish the dirt, with the rest of those broads

That's why the lady is a tramp


I've wined and dined on mulligan stew,

and never wished for turkey.

As I hitched and hiked and grifted, too,

from Maine to Albuquerque.

Alas, I missed the Beaux-Arts Ball, and what is twice as sad:

I was never at a party where they honored Noel Ca'ad.

But social circles spin too fast for me;

My Hobohemia is the place to be…..


I get too hungry for dinner at eight, I like the theatre but never come late.

I never bother with people I hate: That's why the lady is a tramp.

I don't like crap games with Barons and Earls,

Won't go to Harlem in ermine and pearls.

Won't dish the dirt with the rest of the girls:

That's why the lady is a tramp.


I like the free fresh wind in my hair, life without care:

I'm broke, it's oke.

Hate California, it's cold and it's damp:

That's why the lady is a tramp.


I go to Coney - the beach is divine.

I go to ball games - the bleachers are fine.

I follow Winchell and read every line:

That's why the lady is a tramp!

I like a prize fight that isn't a fake.

I love the rowing on Central park lake.

I go to opera and stay wide awake:

That's why the lady is a tramp!

I like the green grass under my shoes, what can I lose?

I'm flat! That's that! I'm all alone when I lower my lamp:

That's why the lady is a tramp! Don't know the reason for cocktails at five.

I don't like flying - I'm glad I'm alive.

I crave affection but not when I drive:

That's why the lady is a tramp!

Folks went to London and left me behind.

I missed the crowning - Queen Mary didn't mind.

Won't play Scarlett in "Gone With the Wind":

That's why the lady is a tramp!


I like to hang my hat where I please, sail with the breeze.

No dough - Heigh - Ho! I still like Roosevelt

and think he's a champ:

That's why the lady is a tramp.


Girls get massages, they cry and they moan –

Tell Lizzie Arden to leave me alone.

I'm not so hot but my shape is my own:

That's why the lady is a tramp!


The food at Rector’s is perfect, no doubt.

I wouldn't know what the Ritz is about.

I drop a nickel and coffee comes out:

That's why the lady is a tramp!


I like the sweet fresh rain in my face.

Diamonds and lace - no got, so what?

For Robert Taylor I whistle and stamp:

That's why the lady is a tramp!