Lama
Douglas Germano
Mud
A samba that speaks of the things of the world
A samba that no one needs to explain
It must come with the simplicity
Of any love
Of any sweat
Of any pain, the real ones
It must come loaded with the history of life and death
It must come in the scribble of calloused hands out there
It must come with the simplicity
Of those who have passion
Of those who have no chance
Of a scar made of truth
It must come loaded with history
It must come loaded with sorrow
It will be made of mud
That shapes, that breaks
But never ends
A samba that speaks of the things of the world
A samba that no one needs to explain
