Velha Xica

Back in the day, old Xica
Sold glue and ginger
And in the afternoon, she would wash
The important boss's clothes
And us kids from school
We asked grandma Xica
What was the reason for that poverty
For our suffering

Hey boy, don't talk politics
Don't talk politics, don't talk politics
But old Xica wrapped in thoughts
She knew, but didn't say the reason for that suffering

Hey boy, don't talk politics
Don't talk politics, don't talk politics

And time passed and old Xica, only got older
She only built a shack with a tin roof, with a tin roof

Hey boy, don't talk politics, don't talk politics

But who sees now
The face of that lady, of that lady
Only sees the wrinkles of suffering, of suffering, of suffering!
Hey boy, don't talk politics
Don't talk politics, don't talk politics
And now she only says:

- Hey boy, I can die, I can die
I've seen Angola independent!
- Hey boy, I can die, I can die
I've seen Angola independent!