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For this bread to eat, for this floor to sleep
The certificate to be born and the concession to smile
For letting me breathe, for letting me exist
God pay him
For the pleasure of crying and for the fact that we are
there
For the joke in the bar and the football to applaud
A crime to talk about and a samba to distract
God pay you
For this beach, this skirt, for the women here
Sloppy love quickly, shave and leave
For Sunday, which is beautiful, soap opera, mass and comic book
God pay you
For the free cachaça that we we have to swallow
For the smoke, misfortune, that we have to cough
For the scaffolding, icicles, that we have to fall
God pay you
For more one day, agony, to endure and watch
For the grinding of teeth, for the buzzing city
And for the demented scream that helps us escape
God pay you
For the mourning woman to praise us and spit on us
And for the bugs that kiss and cover us
And for the ultimate peace that will finally redeem us
God pay him