Feira Moderna

Your color is what they look at, old wound
Your smile is what they fear, fear, fear

Modern fair, the sensual invitation
Oh! Telephone operator, the word has already died
My heart is new
My heart is new
And I didn't even read the newspaper

In this cave, the invitation is always the same
Oh! Telephone operator, if the distance has already died
Independence or death
Rests in a strong cradle
Peace on Earth, amen