Baile no Elite

I went to a dance at Elite, accepting an invitation
From Manoel the Waiter (My God in Heaven, what a great dance!)
What a cool thing, already from Campo de Santana
To hear the old and good sound: trombone, sax, and pistom.
The attire was sporty because the heat was strong
But I wore a big jacket, to make a good impression
At that time, the refinement was the S-120 linen
And I didn't like wearing a big shirt (It's a matter of opinion!)

I passed through the entrance, climbed the old staircase
And entered the hall.
When I came face to face with the Tabajara Orchestra
And the popular Jamelão, singing only samba-canção.
Norato and Norega, Macaxeira and Zé Bodega
On the reeds and brass (And there were many others)
On the clarinet, Severino played a divine cry
One that no longer exists (And he was still quite young!)

Recovered from this surprise, I sat at the table
That I had already reserved (I even paid in advance)
Manoel, who is one of us, brought a plate of lupini beans
A beer and a mixed drink (So I wouldn't catch a cold)
I drank my Brahma, got up, asked the lady to dance
And started my dance (In the hopping and crossing steps)
Even Trajano and Mário Jorge, who are guys who don't shy away
Left humiliated (I was really devilish!)

When the sun king was already rising and Tabajara was playing
Their final chords (To the sadness of the couples)
I played the small one, like a movie artist
In sentimental scenes (in the light of a lilac lamp).
In a room without a ceiling, near the emergency room
A siren woke me up (in a desperate state)
I got up, washed my face, almost died of regret
Because it was a dream and it ended
(Nelson Motta noted that today the sound is rock and roll.
Tabajara is very expensive
and the old times have passed!)