Poeira da Estrada (part. Zé Camillo)

I lifted the lid, went back to the past
My world stored inside a trunk
I found at the bottom, all dusty
My old good rawhide lasso

I saw myself in the saddle of my sorrel
Horn in hand in the middle of the herd
I embraced my old lasso, faithful companion
Nostalgia hit, despair came
Feeling the smell of the dust of the road

Road that was red with earth
That progress brought asphalt and covered
Road that today is called highway
Road where one day my dream followed

Road that used to be for cattle drives
Road of dust, sun, rain, and cold
Road where a small piece still remains
The dust of the lasso that hasn't left

Dust of the road only memories remain
Dust in the city is pollution
No more cowboys herding cattle
They traded horses for trucks

And when I miss the countryside
I grab the guitar and sing my loneliness
There's not much left for me here in the city
And when sadness truly strikes
I ease the longing at rodeo parties

Road that was red with earth
That progress brought asphalt and covered
Road that today is called highway
Road where one day my dream followed

Road that used to be for cattle drives
Road of dust, sun, rain, and cold
Road where a small piece still remains
The dust of the lasso that hasn't left