Era Domingo

It was Sunday, it was of the world
My perplexed gaze
In the razor voice; life, crumb
And I want more than that

All beauty in the fortress
Of a sky full of blues
Beautiful music through the window
Sounded like a blues

And I so alone, so without anyone
In the dust of the crowd
In my mouth a sweet, bitter taste
I free, slave of passion

The day was breaking and the Three Marys
(Sad constellation)
At that hour, hostages of dawn
Like my heart

And I so alone, so without anyone
In the dust of the crowd
In my mouth a sweet, bitter taste
I free, slave of passion

And I so alone, so without anyone
In the dust of the crowd
In my mouth a sweet, bitter taste
I free, slave of passion

It was Sunday, it was of the world
My perplexed gaze
In the razor voice; life, crumb
And I want more than that

All beauty in the fortress
Of a sky full of blues
Beautiful music through the window
Sounded like a blues

It was Sunday, it was of the world
It was Sunday, it was of the world
It was Sunday, it was of the world
It was Sunday