Tempo de mazá-lo liño

There's no story that can wash
away the tricks of the masters.
There's no land that we can reach
where we can bury them.
There's no night without barking,
there's no dog without a tail,
dogs are born alone,
barking has to be earned.
With the hands of all gathered,
and the fear under the stones,
we make the day rise,
of the funeral of miseries.
We're in the time of shake it up,
we're in the time of shake it down,
we're in the time of shake it up,
we're in the time to mash it up.