Desafio do Auto da Catingueira

Gentlemen owners of the house, the singer asks for permission
To play the guitar flat, here in your presence
I come from the northern lands
With the permission of the sentence
I fulfill my strong destiny
Already known by many
Seeking the illusion of life
Or the knife of death
And of the two, the preferred
Luck must send me

Since I announced who I am
I leave my invitation made
For any of the singers
Who gives respect
Who happens to be here
In this function of joy
And for everyone to see me
I sing loudly
With this fighting guitar
That when it doesn't kill, it annoys the singer

Only on the stairs of a church
I worked for many days
Five died of envy
Three of vexation and one of agony
I killed the animals with a knife
That already gave me three women
It's the story of a caçote
A coati and a sack
The caçote with the pot
Filtered, for the coati, a coffee
Before offering the lot
In a bag for the sack
The sack dried the pot
Left the coati only with faith
That inside the pot
There was still some coffee
And it danced a xote
The envious of the sack
That coati ca-dica the luck
I hit the beak and put the boat
What does the sack want?

But first I warn
I'm mean, I don't smooth things over
Sad or happy is the singer
Who gets caught to receive the punishment
Because whoever sings with me
Leaves dead or becomes a doctor

I'm a newcomer singer, excuse the treatment
At this time, at this moment
With a song so significant
Without fame, without presumption
In a duel of speakers
I come with much knowledge
But for titles and bravery
I only bring a guitar in hand
Lack a distinguished companion
To mark the place of the dispute
Whether outside in the yard
Or here in the hall itself

Let's get to work right away
Leave the beasts aside
The moon has already maneuvered
In its illuminated corner
You who are from here
Are leaving intrigued
The circle of the singers
And what pleases you most
If we're going to sing the moirão
The hammer or the tirana
Or the swift sussuarana
Part of the collective work
Or then, instead
The work of nine feet
Of eight, seven, or six
Or ten feet, a quadrão
Let's get to work right away
Leave these things aside
Let's sing in the hall
I'm more restless than a snake
With its tail stuck
Poisoned the sting

Alright then, let's go
Sing any song
I played in my bed
To spin the wisdom
Let's sing, my friend
The songs that come
In a stream like this, the danger
That is always lurking
For this people I speak of
Educated listening to me
Because to understand a part
Hammering or quitting
You have to hit a thousand gates
On the road of disillusionment
And above all you have
To know, suffer, wait
Even knowing that what you dream of
Doesn't come
On the road of disillusionment
I walked at night and day
Alright then, let's go
Sing any song

On the road of disillusionment
I walked at night and day
Deluded searching
To learn what I didn't know
When I was young, one day
I decided to go walking
On a road of joy
Searching for joy
I ran crazy, after it
Year in, year out
I hit more than a thousand gates
On the road of disillusionment
I hit more than a thousand gates
On the road of disillusionment

Every wandering singer carries in his heart
A wound in the soul, a waning moon road
And the sound of the gate
Every wandering singer carries in his heart
A wound in the soul, a waning moon road
And the sound of the gate
Oh, distant fountain
That quenched her thirst
And the most discreet heart
Of the love of Catingueira
Oh love is a serpent
This beast kills us
Let's then sing a part
Go and give, give and go

I am a singer of coco
I don't sing parts
Part witch
I run leagues away from it, ah, ah
Arriving at a place
Where she may be
I apologize
Hurting my shins
Give and go, give and go, give and go

I met a bony and brave singer
Who mocked love and scoffed at the faith of believers
But one day he touched the door frame of a window
And the love bug, girl, dove and maiden
And the singer little by little fell in love with her
Until one day he went crazy from singing parts
And today he lives on the road, grumbling that she is guilty
She was the girl from the window
Give and go, go and come

I am a singer of coco
Because whoever sings parts
Runs the risk of Saint Francis
Dying crazy singing to her
Go and come
Go and come
It's over