O Gás Acabou

The gas is out, there is little food
I ran out of money
Payment is far away
The thirteenth hasn't arrived yet
Zé's silverware
That he saved up to buy the boots
If the valley fails
You can now complete the expenses for the fair

And here I am
Hitchhiking to work
Thinking about my boy's black mother
Who never complains
And he's always singing
Whatever God wants

Poor is this suffering
You only receive a voucher for your payment

Yesterday, added to today, is the same routine
And to disguise my distraction, it's the bar on the corner
Idle talk that leads nowhere, just to distract
And we get tired, then we go home, have dinner and sleep

And here I am