A primeira vez

Auguste Rodin (1840 - 1917)
"O Beijo" (1888 - 1889)
181,5 x 112,3 x 117 cm; mármore

Claro que me lembro. E claro que me lembro que a primeira vez foi, efectivamente, à segunda. E tenho perfeita noção de que, com um altíssimo grau de probabilidade, acabei de me lixar.
Seja como for, quem também se lembrou da sua primeira vez, pelos vistos, foi o Peter Gabriel, quando decidiu escrever a letra da canção dos asteriscos sonoros de hoje. Na altura em que os Genesis ainda não faziam as charopadas que, a dado ponto, acharam por bem impingir-nos (depois do Peter Gabriel sair, pois claro).
Como tenho aquela teoria estúpida, de que quem não se consegue rir de si próprio tem algo de mal, rio-me sempre com esta canção:

I'm counting out time,
Got the whole thing down by numbers.
All those numbers!
Give my guidance!
Oh Lord, I need that now.

The day of judgment's come,
And you can bet that I've been resting,
For this testing,
Digesting every word the experts say.
Erogenous zones I love you:
without you, what would a poor boy do?

Found a girl I wanted to date,
Thought I'd better get it straight.
Went to buy a book before it's too late.
Don't leave nothing to fate.
I studied every line, every page in the book,
And now I've got the real thing here, I'm gonna take a look, take a look.

I'm counting out time, hoping it goes like I planned it,
'cos I understand it. Look! I've found the hotspots, figures 1 to 9.
Still counting out time, I got my finger on the button,
Don't say nothing - just lie there still
And I'll get you turned on just fine.
Erogenous zones I love you:
without you, what would a poor boy do?

Touch and go with 1 to 6.
Bit of trouble in zone number 7.
Gotta remember all of my tricks.
There's heaven ahead in number 11!
Getting crucial responses with dilation of the pupils.
Honey, get hip! It's time to unzip, to unzip.
Whipee!

Move over Casanova

I'm counting out time, reaction none to happy,
Please don't slap me,
Im a red blooded male and the book said I could not fail.
I'm counting out time, I got unexpected distress from my mistress,
I'll get my money back from the bookstore right away.
Erongenous zones I question you:
Without you, what would a poor boy do?
Without you, what would a poor boy do?
Without you, mankind handkinds through the blues.