Para Paula e Wilson: New Orleans and the Tall, Dark Stranger

Fizemos certa feita uma viagem muito especial para um Congresso da AACC, em Nova Orleans (antes do Furacão Katrina). Não me recordo de ter gostado mais de uma cidade e de uma viagem.
Ao escutar Hugh Laurie, mais conhecido como o Dr. House da série homônima,  apresentando ao vivo "St. James Infirmary"(algo como "No necrotério do Hosp. St. James") não pude deixar de me lembrar daquela viagem. E também da relação ao mesmo tempo irônica e poética da cidade de Nova Orleans com a morte: seus lindos cemitérios e seus cortejos fúnebres festivos ao som de jazz.

Aí vai a letra:

It was down by old Joe's barroom, on the corner of the square They were serving drinks as usual, and the usual crowd was there On my left stood Big Joe McKennedy, and his eyes were bloodshot red And he turned his face to the people, these were the very words he said I was down to St. James infirmary, I saw my baby there She was stretched out on a long white table,  So sweet, cool and so fair Let her go, let her go, God bless her Wherever she may be She may search this whole wide world over Never find a sweeter man as me When I die please bury me in my high top Stetson hat Put a twenty dollar gold piece on my watch chain The gang'll know I died standing pat Let her go, let her go God bless her Wherever she may be She may search this wide world over Never find a sweeter man as me I want six crapshooters to be my pallbearers Three pretty women to sing a song Stick a jazz band on my hearse wagon Raise hell as I stroll along Let her go Let her go God bless her Wherever she may be She may search this whole wide World over She'll never find a sweeter Man as me Songwriters: Mills, Irving St James Infirmary lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group