Depois Das Seis

When the factory whistled and work ended,
everyone left,
without desires to return.
As the sea is not for fish,
oh, mulatto, don't deny your hair.
And, taking advantage of this opportunity,
come live, eat me, come give me,
reborn, rest.

The sun setting
dries the sweat on my face,
I'm not a captive by choice:
I'm alive and shouting from the stands.
And it's the young people who actually make the party,
in a city like this,
where being human is immoral.
- I know the moon
and I don't know my backyard.
- It's your fault.
I sang all this evil.

I... The swallow
told that, alone,
she sings, but doesn't make summer.
There's a problem.
It's the same train, the same station.
In short:
- See you later, I'm leaving.
What am I doing here?
I want another game,
because this one is hard to swallow.