Era Domingo

Zeca Baleiro Zeca Baleiro

It was Sunday

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

  1. Quase Nada
  2. Price Tag
  3. Telegrama
  4. Coco do Trava Língua
  5. Vapor Barato / Flor da Pele (part. Gal Costa)
  6. Ai Que Saudade D'ocê
  7. Bienal
  8. Era Domingo
  9. Salão de Beleza
  10. Táxi Lunar
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