Marinheiros de Neon

The cha cha bar was sliding and we swan across the

Scotchman on the rocks (so many rocks . . .

and glass and sand.) In shock we docked in

fish head harbour where the lights were dimmed.

(Locked in, we couldn't see a thing . . . )

The floors was tin, the sky was oil, the air was

poisoned lager and the juke box pumped out

schlager because no-one pulled the plugs

(so many plugs . . . and sparks.) The live wives kept usdancing.

Dance in brine, dance in seaweed.

O bar do cha cha tava deslizando e a gente nadou pelo

Escocês nas pedras (tantas pedras... e vidro e areia.) Em choque, ancoramos no

porto da cabeça de peixe onde as luzes estavam apagadas.

(Trancados, não conseguíamos ver nada...) O chão era de lata, o céu era de óleo, o ar era

cerveja envenenada e a jukebox tocava

schlager porque ninguém desligou os cabos

(tantos cabos... e faíscas.) As esposas ao vivo continuavam a nos fazer dançar.

Dance na salmoura, dance nas algas.