Memória Esquecida
Milionário e José Rico
Forgotten Memory
Oh, how I want to listen to country music again
That is not made today
It seems like the sensitivity
Remained in the past, no longer exists
It hurts me to know that some artists
Who achieved success in life
Used the countryside as a story so much
And today, from memory, it became forgotten
Oh, how I want to listen now
The sound of the viola in a good pagode
Beautiful guarânias that give us goosebumps
In the sound, in the magic of the accordion
Where is the true singer
With simplicity, soul, and heart
Passionate about nature
Singing the beauties of my countryside
How much I miss the fallen land
The wood stove and the coffee field in bloom
And the sad singing of the Siriema
That was once the theme of love songs
Even the beautiful patchwork quilt
Served as a blanket, they no longer remember
The divine wet nurse present
Today, no one feels the absence she left
Oh, how I want to listen now
The sound of the viola in a good pagode
Beautiful guarânias that give us goosebumps
In the sound, in the magic of the accordion
The old oil lamp is no longer remembered
That was the first king of the road
I appreciate the progress I see
But the countryman is still countryside
I appreciate the progress I see
But the countryman is still countryside
