Doente, Morena

Early morning she goes out
Takes the key, leaves me locked up the entire day
I don't care, lay over the rugs
Watching the train go by

Among toys, cigarettes
The Treasure of Youth, don't know how many volumes
And when I sing
I let the imagination fly

But, yesterday night, the hand over my hair
She said: My love, don't be scared
On the next summer
We'll go to the beach