She, the one that would have loved so much,
the one that spell, with music, my soul,
he asks me, with tenderness to forget it, ..
I forgot her, without hatred, and without crying.
She, the one that would have loved so much,
the one that spell, with music, my soul,
he asks me, with tenderness to forget it, ..
I forgot her, without hatred, and without crying.
I carry, buried so many dreams,
I keep, so many faults in the soul,
I do not know, but I sob and tremble, when I dig,
one more, one more, in my entrails,
I have seen, the arcaduz of life,
for the gesture, miserable of the farce,
to you, dear little woman, an altar, I will raise,
I will rise, inside my soul.
Only among all we can make this a better place :)