Casinha

Behind this hill, there's a town
With white houses, mansions, girls at the gates
Old folks at the windows
And old Maria smoking
Resting in the square, listening to the band
Play waltzes and songs in the hearts of young lovers

Behind this smoke, there's a town
With kids in the street
Playing with the moon
Sharing secrets
And the old folks on the garden benches
Watch another afternoon come to an end

Behind this hill, there's a reality
White houses tagged, cursing
Sins at the gates, failures at the windows
And old Maria smoking
Watches the misery in the middle of the square
And the band plays a soundtrack to yet another funeral
For someone who got tired of living

Behind this smoke, there's a reality
Cops and thieves, locks on the gates, bars on the windows
And the old drunks on the garden benches
Watch their end

Behind this world, there's a town
Jesus Christ built it when he rose
On that cross and taught us the way
Love, oh love