A domingueira de hoje traz a música “Where Do You Go To (My Lovely)” de Peter Sarstedt. Criada em 1969, a canção ficou no topo das paradas inglesas por várias semanas e chegou a dividir um prêmio com “Space Oddity” de David Bowie. A letra, que você pode conferir abaixo, fala sobre uma garota pobre de Nápoles que virou jetsetter, usa roupas de Balmain, esquia em St. Morritz, mas não consegue se livrar das marcas do passado.
A música integra a ótima trilha sonora do filme “Viagem a Darjeeling” de Wes Anderson.
Em tempo, quem se interessa pela obra do diretor pode dar uma olhadinha neste link , do site A.V.Club, que contém uma ótima entrevista e uma lista de 16 filmes que teriam influenciado o estilo de Wes Anderson.
“Where Do You Go To, My Lovely” de Peter Sarstedt
You talk like Marlene Dietrich
And you dance like Zizi Jeanmaire
Your clothes are all made by Balmain
And there’s diamonds and pearls in your hair
You live in a fancy appartement
Of the Boulevard of St. Michel
Where you keep your Rolling Stones records
And a friend of Sacha Distel
But where do you go to my lovely
When you’re alone in your bed
Tell me the thoughts that surround you
I want to look inside your head
I’ve seen all your qualifications
You got from the Sorbonne
And the painting you stole from Picasso
Your loveliness goes on and on, yes it does
When you go on your summer vacation
You go to Juan-les-Pines
With your carefully designed topless swimsuit
You get an even suntan, on your back and on your legs
When the snow falls you’re found in St. Moritz
With the others of the jet-set
And you sip your Napoleon Brandy
But you never get your lips wet
But where do you go to my lovely
When you’re alone in your bed
Tell me the thoughts that surround you
I want to look inside your head, yes I do
Your name is heard in high places
You know the Aga Khan
He sent you a racehorse for christmas
And you keep it just for fun, for a laugh haha
They say that when you get married
It’ll be to a millionaire
But they don’t realize where you came from
And I wonder if they really care, they give a damn
But where do you go to my lovely
When you’re alone in your bed
Tell me the thoughts that surround you
I want to look inside your head
I remember the back streets of Naples
Two children begging in rags
Both touched with a burning ambition
To shake off their lowly brown tags, yes they try
So look into my face Marie-Claire
And remember just who you are
Then go and forget me forever
‘Cause I know you still bear
the scar, deep inside, yes you do
I know where you go to my lovely
When you’re alone in your bed
I know the thoughts that surround you
‘Cause I can look inside your head