Gastão was perfect
Driven by his owner
In solitude, affected
by mosquito bites
Gastão was a millionaire
He lived in rare carpets
br/>If they turned their back on him
He immediately called the police
In bouts of ill-will
He had a taste for soda
But no one took notice
That was secretly widowed
Not even Gastão realized
How much life had trapped him
Among silver stilettos
And fine silk quilts
Gastão was from this way
He gave real tests
Gaston was a parapet
Of Popes and Cardinals
He came to him just out of boredom
In the ticks of life
A solemn waste
For his mother who was helpless
He sent sweets messages
By distressed messengers
It had not been for Gastão of the weak
And he would already be a minister
I met him in Alverca
In a can of gasoline
He had a tire on the wrong side
But he suffered from asthma
On the June solstices
To whom whatever you wanted to hear
He said he was a nephew
Of Fernão Peres de Trava
Do you want to know about Gastão?
Go to the Pena Palace
Now he uses a toupee
And he likes quails
He has a sign that indicates him
Like the strongest Doctor
Pricks his finger on his chin
And says he is Our Lord

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