Pra Não Morrer De Tristeza

Woman, you left your home,
To live a bohemian life,
And live in cabarets,
And I, not to die of sadness,
I sit at the same table,
Even knowing who you are,
And I, not to die of sadness,
I sit at the same table,
Even knowing who you are.

Today, we live on drinks,
Without solace, without shelter,
In a deceitful world,

Who I was,
Who you were,
Who we are now,
Former companions,
Enemies in love.