Circuladô de Fulô

Circuladô de Fulô to God to damn
May God guide you because I can't guide
And long live those who have already given me
Circuladô de Fulô, and still those who are missing give me

Resonating like a banjo
And made only with a tight wire
A handle and an old can at the end of a party
Fair at the peak of the Sun at noon

But for others it didn't exist
That music couldn't
Because it couldn't be popular
That music, if not sung, is not popular
If not tuned, doesn't jingle, doesn't dance

And yet pulled in the gut of misery
In the tense gut of the most wicked physical misery
And hurting, hurting
Like a nail in the palm of the hand
A rusty blind nail
In the splayed palm hand
Heart exposed like a nerve
Tense retense a black man
Blind nail lasting in the palm
Pulp of the hand in the Sun

Circuladô de Fulô to God to damn
May God guide you because I can't guide
And long live those who have already given me
Circuladô de Fulô, and still those who are missing give me

The people are the invent-tongues
In the malice of mastery in the sly one
Of wonder in the stickiness of improvisation
Feeling out the crossing greased the axis of the Sun

Circuladô de Fulô
Circuladô de Fulô to God to damn
May God guide you because I can't guide
And long live those who have already given me
Circuladô de Fulô, and still those who are missing give me

And don't ask me to guide you, don't ask
Dismiss that I guide you
Unguide that I ask you
Promise that I trust you
Leave me, forget me, let me go
Unbitter me so in the end I get it right
That in the end I reverse
That in the end I fix
And for the end I reserve myself
And it will be seen that I am right
And it will be seen that there is a way
And it will be seen that it is done
That through the wrong I made it right
That he who makes a basket makes a hundred
If I don't guide, I don't regret
Because the master who taught me
No longer gives teaching

Circuladô de Fulô to God to damn
May God guide you because I can't guide
And long live those who have already given me
Circuladô de Fulô, and still those who are missing give me