Cavalo Ferro

Riding on an iron horse
I lived in green fields, I bury myself
Tropic-American lands
Tropic-American lands, Tropic-American lands
And in the midst of everything, in a still silent place
Iron concrete, deaf and blind
Inside this old man, this old man
This old world

Pulsating in a lethal second
In the central plateau
Where it divides, it divides, it divides
The good and the bad
I will find my way back
It may be right, it may be direct
Right path without danger, without danger
Without danger, without fatal danger