Qué Será
Chico Buarque
What Will Be
Oh what will be, what will be
That they are sighing in the bedrooms
That they are whispering in verses and troubadours
That they are hiding under the clothes
That is in the minds and in the mouths
That is lighting candles in alleys
That are speaking loudly in the taverns
They shout in the market
It is certainly in nature
What will be
That has no certainty and never will
What has no solution and never will
That has no size
Oh what will be, what will be
That lives in the ideas of lovers
That the most delirious poets sing
That the intoxicated prophets swear
That is in the pilgrimages of the mutilated
That is in the most unhappy fantasies
The prostitutes dream of it in the morning
The bandits think of it, the helpless
In every sense
What will be
That has no decency and never will
That has no censorship and never will
That makes no sense
Oh what will be, what will be
That all warnings will not prevent
Because all laughter will defy
And all bells will ring
Because all anthems will consecrate
Because all children will unleash
And all destinies will meet
And the same eternal father who never was there
Seeing that hell will bless it
That has no government and never will
That has no shame and never will
What has no judgment