Contenido bajo Licencia Creative Commons

Creative Commons License Con manchas en los dedos... by Gladys Fretes is licensed under a Creative Commons Atribución-No Comercial-Sin Derivadas 2.5 Argentina License. Based on a work at gladysfretes.blogspot.com. Para otros usos contáctame vía mail

miércoles, 4 de julio de 2012

Mr Cellophane

Mr Cellophane by Gladys Fretes
Mr Cellophane a photo by Gladys Fretes on Flickr.
Acrílico y esmalte sobre chapadur - 28x30cm - 25 febrero 2006 -  Serie Personajes


   Cada vez que veo la película Chicago, con   Catherine Zeta-Jones, Renée Zellweger, Richard Gere, John C. Reilly,  Queen Latifah, adaptación del musical creado por Bob Fosse, me fascino además de los temas, la coreografía, la fotografía, con este tema Celofán, que habla de esas personas que no son tenidas en consideración por los demás, que pasan inadvertidas, esas personas tan necesarias, que están ahí y con las que se puede contar cuando se las necesita, el común, el que se pierde en la multitud como uno más. 
   El personajes es interpretado hermosamente por John C Reilly, que hace de Amos, de alguien a que nadie ve, y del que nadie siquiera recuerda bien como se llama. 
    
    Hace tiempo, cuando comenzaba la serie Personajes, una de mis manchitas, la que  se ve al inicio de este comentario, corresponde al Señor Celofán. 


♪ ♫ If someone stood up in a crowd
And raised his voice up way out loud
And waved his arm
And shook his leg
You'd notice him

If someone in a movie show
Yelled "fired in the second row,
This whole place is a powder keg!"
You'd notice him

And even without clucking like a hen
Everyone gets noticed, now and then,
Unless, of course, that personage should be
Invisible, inconsequential me!

Cellophane
Mister cellophane
Should have been my name !!!!
Mister cellophane
'cause you can look right through me
Walk right by me
And never know I'm there!

I tell ya
Cellophane
Mister cellophane
Should have been my name
Mister cellophane
'cause you can look right through me walk right by me
And never know I'm there. . .

Suppose you was a little cat
Residin' in a person's flat
Who fed you fish and scratched your ears?
You'd notice him

Suppose you was a woman wed
And sleepin' in a double bed beside one man for seven years
You'd notice him

A human being's made of more than air
With all that bulk, you're bound to see him there

Unless that human bein' next to you
Is unimpressive, undistinguished
You know who. . .

Should have been my name
Mister cellophane
'cause you can look right through me
Walk right by me
And never know I'm there
I tell ya
Cellophane
Mister cellophane
Should have been my name
Mister cellophane
'cause you can look right through me
Walk right by me
And never know I'm there
Never even know I'm there ♫♫

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