Translating is always betraying. 2) Christmas Card From A Hooker In Minneapolis
Tom Waits - Christmas card from a hooker in Minneapolis Hey, Charley, I’m expecting a baby, can you believe it? And I’ve found a place, here on Ninth Street, right above that little, filthy bookstore. You know, the one by Euclid Avenue.
I’ve left the stuff behind, and I’m taking it easy with the whiskey too. I have a man now. He plays the trombone when he’s not working on the railroad.
He says he loves me – you know? – and he doesn’t care that he’s not the father of the baby. He’ll raise it as if it were his own, he says. And he even gave me a ring, one that belonged to his mother. And he takes me out dancing on Saturday nights.
Charley, I think of you every time I stop to get gas; it must be all that grease you used to put in your hair. I still have that record of yours, the one from Anthony and the Imperials, but someone stole my record player. What can you do?
You see, Charley, I really thought I was going to go crazy when they caught Mario. So I went back to Omaha, I wanted to be with my folks. But all those I used to know were either dead or in jail; so I came back to Minneapolis, this time to stay.
And, Charley, you know? Sometimes I almost think I'm happy, and it's the first time that’s happened since I almost lost my life. I just wish I could have all that money back that we wasted on drugs. I would buy a lot of used cars, but not to sell them! No, just for the fun of driving a different one every day, depending on how I feel.
Hey Charley, Charley, for God’s sake!
Do you want to hear the truth?
I don’t have a husband. He doesn’t play any damn trombone.
I need money, Charley, I’m broke and I have to pay this lawyer. He says I might be out on bail.
For Valentine’s Day.
