Todos Os Homens São Maricas Quando Estão Com Gripe

Cloths on the forehead
Rosary in hand
A hot water bottle
Lemon tea
Cotton swabs
Wine with honey
Three aspirins
Cream on the skin
My throat hurts
I call the woman
Oh Lurdes, Lurdes
I'm going to die
Take my temperature
Look at my throat
Quiet the kids
Close the window
I don't want chicken soup
Or salad
Oh Lurdes, Lurdes
You're worthless
If you could dream
How I feel
I see death
I never lie to you
I see hell
Flames devils
Strange angels
Horns and tails
Tigers without stripes
Goats with braids
Owls crying
Crickets laughing
Oh Lurdes, Lurdes
What was that
It's not rain
At my window
Oh Lurdes, Lurdes
Stay with me
It's not the wind
Blowing around
Nor are the voices
Coming from the sea
It's not a drop
From a tap
Put the little saint
By my head
Arrange the quilt
Speak to the priest
Place Jesus
On the blanket
Call the doctor
Make the call
Oh Lurdes, Lurdes
You don't even notice
Make me herbal teas
And sponge cake
Don't get up
I'll be alone
Here all alone
Rotting away
Oh Lurdes, Lurdes
I'm going to die