Naquela Mesa

From Sérgio Bittencourt to Jacob do Bandolim

At that table, he always sat
And always told me
What is living better

At that table, he told stories
That today in memory
I keep and know by heart

At that table, he gathered people
And told happily
What he did in the morning
And in his eyes there was so much brightness
That more than his son
I became his fan

I didn't know
I didn't know it hurt so much
A table in a corner
A house and a garden

If I knew how much life hurts
This pain so painful
Wouldn't hurt like this

Now there's a table in the living room
And today no one talks anymore
About his mandolin
At that table he's missing
And his absence
Is hurting me

At that table he's missing
And his absence
Is hurting me