Vila do Sossego

Oh, I don’t know if it was the ancients who said
In their scrolls, Papillon already told me
That under torture, all flesh betrays
And usually, commonly, fatally, happily
Carelessly, the nerve tightens
(Oh-oh-oh-oh) with precision

In the planes that spewed parachutes
In the bunkers, living houses, in case you die
And in my delusions, my crickets fear
Marriage, breakup, sacrament, document
Like a pastime, I just want to live more
(Oh-oh-oh-oh) with distress, oh, oh

My treponema isn’t pale or slimy
My gametes gather in my sound
And the cherubic girls review
A submissive commitment, a stir in the tenement
Call Father Ciço to bless me
(Oh-oh-oh-oh) with devotion