Essa Mulher

Early in the morning, this lady settles
Set the table, dust it
Wash the dishes, dry your eyes

Oh, how this saint doesn't forget
To ask for women
For the children, for the bread

Then, he smiled awkwardly
And embrace that man, that world
That makes her so happy

In the afternoon, this girl falls in love
If you decorate yourself, you decorate yourself
Knows everything, it doesn't matter

Oh, how beautiful this thing is
To be a singer, to be an artist
This is all very good

And she cries so much with pleasure and agony
Someday, any day
Understanding how to be happy

At dawn, this woman does so much damage
Take off your clothes, make the bed
Turn the table, dry the bar

Oh, how this crazy woman forgets
How men go crazy
In this mouth, on this ground

Then, it seems like he finds it funny
And thank fate for all that
That makes her so unhappy

This girl, this woman, this lady
That I bump into all the time
In the casual mirrors

It is made of shadow and so much light
Of so much mud and so much cross
Who thinks everything is natural