As Flores e o Louco

Mad
They say he was mad
For believing too much in others
He stopped to listen to everyone's story
He shared everything even though he had so little
When there was some change left over
He bought flowers and distributed them around the cemetery
He seemed to pray, but who he was praying to was a mystery

Mad
He did the right and it didn't feel right, not at all
Who was he talking to huh
He believed that wealth was not in the pocket
Those who passed by laughed
This guy got too high
He had a habit of talking about a world that didn't exist
That only he saw it
And his flaw was thinking that the world had a solution
Foolish utopia

One fine day, as he was leaving the flower shop, a man questioned his madness
Why spend money on flowers that will die
With people you don't even know on the other side of the grave?
And he retorted
Don't you see that your money is like this flower?
A piece of a dead tree that you still believe it has value
Flowers are to remind us that we are fleeting
Flowers are our ultimate gift
To show us that even after death, life still leaves its scent
And under the coffin
Flowers accompany you, money doesn't
And if I leave flowers it's not just to praise those who have gone
But to warn those who will stay

Brother, mad, mad
The city came together and decided to set fire
In all the flowers he put and soon
They accused him of being a demagogue
They lynched him with punches
And on the cemetery floor agonizing and almost dead instead of petals
They threw stones at his body and this plea could be heard everywhere

Madman, just another madman
Liar
Dreamer
Whatever it be
He's just another madman madman

And after he disappeared
The city lost its colors
There were no flowers, just the smell of rot
Flowers are to say that we love someone
If love goes away so does the flower
And love is a dying flower
In the gardens of ambition
What emerges are only hundred dollar bills
The mad people are no longer seen
Because in the land of sane, the crazy ones are the ones who see the most

When I remember this madman I think that the poet is a madman too
Wanting to make another flower bloom in someone's dead heart
And that's all a madman has
Today when I pass by the cemetery
I see the dead wanting to tell me
Will you only realize when you die?
That madman was serious

Maybe this was a dream that never happened
Maybe it's just my delusion
Maybe it gives lily
Maybe it gives roses
Maybe it gives you laughs
At the end of the story, who has gone mad?
And who is to say that this dream died?
Sometimes I think that flowers are hope
And I have a little bit of that madman
But whoever killed him was also

Madman, just another madman
Liar
Dreamer
Whatever it be
He's just another madman madman