A Carta

Dear mother, I hope you are well
I don't even want to worry you
But here in the band there are people in charge
There are others like me, there are others who don't even care
Medicine is still the spell, oh my mother
But doctrine heals the disillusioned infidels
With the saint who is so revered
He hurries his legs, surpassing

The motorized vehicle, while the frenetic disciple
Goes down the city to meet the midday sun
Wanting to pay his tithe, buy a place in heaven
Rhythms break, faces close
Ignoring the sorrows, ignoring the strength of the sorrowful
Inspired by the new sounds of the new outskirts
In how many phone calls the face of the city changes
Buildings, cranes, semi-naked ladies progress tramples
With sincerity the generation of utopia
Not even my song smiles no longer naive
Not like the first time, not like the first day
Oh mother oh mother oh dear mother
Your son once dreamed of changing the world
Mutilated heads down, compatriots descend
Citizens, looking for notes at the traffic lights
Of the new civilization
Oh mother: galaça mu galaça

I won't fall into disgrace for not being a mirror
Of the sterile contents of the new television
Natural ducks ladies in high heels
Attending the weddings where all the Marias
Pass through the mud of the semi-asphalt
Cousins, your daughters, mine from afar
Belong to whoever arrives first
As someone sang one day
Dear mother, I hope you stay well
Receive here also a kiss from the son who loves you so much
If you need me, just call me oh my mother
I fight not to lose your beloved homeland

Your son once dreamed of changing the world!
Oh mother oh mother oh dear mother
Your son once dreamed of changing the world!
Oh mother
World's illusion