Sneg je opet, Snezana...
Ulazim u studio i pevam tu pesmu. Sa sve onim kafanskim vibratom u grlu. Od srca i sa ukoso nasmesenom svesrdnom ljubavlju za otpevani pesnicki bedak koji posmatram potpuno mimo sebe.
Sutradan, sneg i dalje pada nesmanjenom zestinom. Uskacem u teskom mukom steceni taksi i Sneg je opet Snezana svira na bizarnoj radio stanici. Ubedjena sam da je bio onaj gastoski merdza, ali ne mogu da garantujem. Svejedno, to je atmosfera. Vremesni taksista dugo i detaljno prica kako se najefikasnije pere sudje i da bas tu gde upravo prolazimo zivi njegova ljubav, zena kojoj majka onomad nije dala da se uda za njega jer je bio baraba. A njen otac ga dizao u nebesa, govorio da je bog...
Ovo je, naravno, oznaka za nezvanicno rezervisano parking mesto.
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It's snowing in tons for the last few days here in Belgrade. I'm singing this bizzare song from 70's, one of those glass breaking old school tavern melancholy type of mood ones... It's about the time passing and the man counting the years they two have parted and remembering it every year the new snow falls. The same song playing on the taxi drivers radio when I got in a day later. He's about 67, and first he tells me about the best way to wash the dishes for a long time, and then says that in the street we're just passing, his old love lives, the woman whose mother wouldn't let her marry him back then. She's say he's a bum. And her father, he loved him, thought he was a god...
The last image - selfproclaimed parking spot reservation.
Dopada mi se ova sa tragovima od kola. Ko bi reko :)
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