O Que Será (A Flor Da Terra)

And all my nerves are begging
And all my organs are clamoring
And a dreadful affliction makes me implore
What has no shame, and never will
What has no government, and never will
What has no sense

What will it be that gives it to you
What will it be, my dear, what gives it to you
That doesn't give you peace, what gives it to you
Could it be that my affection wants to harm me
Could it be that it's time for him to wander
Could it be that he spends the rest of the day outside
Could it be that he left in bad company
Could it be that this child wants to torment me
Could it be that he never tires of challenging
What has no rest, and never will
What has no fatigue, and never will
What has no limit

What will it be
That is inside us, that shouldn't be
That disrespects us, that is in defiance
That is like a liquor that doesn't satisfy
That is like being sick from a revelry
That not even ten commandments will reconcile
Nor all ointments will relieve
Nor all sorrows, all alchemy
And not all saints, what will it be
What has no government, and never will
What has no shame, and never will
What has no sense