Boogie
Paolo Conte
Boogie
Two notes and the chorus was already under the skin of those two
her body gave off African flushes, he looked like a crocodile
the saxes pushed hard like gregarious cyclists on the run
and the song went on deeper and deeper in the air
those two continued, colonial odor rose from her
which came to him as if from one of those old-time drugstores
who kept the door open to spring
someone nearby began to sneeze,
the fan hummed immensely from the exhausted ceiling,
the saxes, hypnotized by her movements, spread
noises of rubber and paint, from him of leather
the lights flashed across the cashier's Pekingese face
who smoked menthol, others sneezed without malice
and the song went elegantly, the orchestra was on its way, it took off
the musicians, one with the ceiling and the floor,
only the drummer in the shadows watched with evil looks
those two danced well, a new cashier replaced the first one,
this one had wolf eyes and chewed Alaskan sweets,
that music continued, it was a song that said and didn't say,
the orchestra swayed like a palm tree in front of a venerated sea
those two knew by heart where they wanted to go
a fifth character hesitated
before sneezing,
then take refuge in nothingness
it was an adult world,
they were wrong as professionals...