Garoa

See her in a wide, long street
I feel out of myself
But what I seek far away
I saw at the bar
Cloudy day, Leblon, yeah, yeah
It will dry light fabrics
Rainwater and blood
What will our faces be like

You say you're leaving, but you go
Talking nonsense, poetry, oh
You arrive and say you're taking away
Talking nonsense, poetry, yeah
Listen to the bells ringing
Talking nonsense, poetry... and now
Don't listen to the Vatican
Talking nonsense, poetry

Pray I, I want
I, I want pray

Drizzle, drizzle, drizzle rots, drizzle
If laughter were a field for corn to grow
Drizzle, drizzle, drizzle rots, drizzle
Dirt on the mirror toothpaste and hair

My skin, my color
My first blanket
My past, my present
My happier future
My home, my shelter
My developed country
My colorful drawing
My friend here with me, hey

Talking nonsense poetry, in the drizzle, in the drizzle