O Primeiro Jornal

I want to sing to you
Monday at morning
Through your battery-operated radio, so sweetly
And help you face this day more easily

I want to put my morning voice
Together with the other night sounds
And to the Sunday smells present
On the house and on you

So that together with the coffee and bread it is given
The miracle of hearing your heart beat
Or maybe a project, a memory
A needless longing
Come rise with the day in a good way

And be with you at the first ember of the cigarette
At the first jet of the tap
In the first preparations of a warrior in the morning

So you go out with some pretty normal happiness
That lasts at least until you buy and read
The first newspaper