Saudosa Maloca

If you, sir, don't remember
May I tell you
Here where you are now
In this tall building
It was an old house
A two-story mansion
It was here, sir
That I, Mato Grosso, and Joca
Built our shack
But one day, we can't even remember
The men came with the tools
That the owner sent to tear down
We took all our things
And went to the middle of the street
To watch the demolition
What sadness we felt
Each piece of wood that fell
Hurt in the heart
Mato Grosso wanted to shout
But I said on top
The men are right
We'll find another place
We only conformed when Joca said:
God gives the cold according to the blanket
And today we lie down
On the grass of the garden
And to forget, we sing like this:
Nostalgic Shack
Beloved shack
From where we spent
The happy days of our life