E Que Tudo Mais Vá Para o Céu

One day you told me, in Andalusia and Valladolid
Granada lies beyond the sea, in Spain
You soaked your bread in my wine
And also a poet fallen in the civil war

The man with the machine then, then spoke to me
Get lost, you cursed poet!
Your cursed time has also come to an end

And I left smiling, not giving a damn; how could I care
About these things when my soul is in love?

But your hair is blacker than black
Than the wing of a blackbird, more subtle than black
Black like the black types that make up the word indigo

And at night I step into CinemaScope
Technicolor, World Vision, those cowboy flicks
What good is my good life as a playboy?
And I buy this cheap opium
For two bucks, a little more
But it hurts so much, I step into a stadium and loneliness gnaws at me

And I want to send to hell
What they think of sending to hell
And let everything else go to heaven

And I want to send to hell
What they think of sending to hell
And let everything else go to heaven
And let everything else go to heaven
And let everything else go to heaven