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The Drunk and the Tightrope Walker

Evening fell like a bridge
A drunk wearing a funeral suit reminded me of Chaplin’s tramp
The moon, like a brothel madam
begged from each cold star a rented shine
 
And clouds, up there in the blotting paper of the sky
sucked on tortured stains, what crazy agony
The drunk wearing a bowler hat was being irreverent
for Brazil’s night, my Brazil
is dreaming of the return of Henfil’s brother
of so many people who left on the tail of a rocket
 
Our gentle mother country is crying
Marias and Clarices are crying on Brazil’s soil
But I know that pain this sharp won’t be in vain
Hope dances on the tightrope with an umbrella
And with each step on this rope you can hurt yourself
Bad luck, the balancing hope
knows that each artist’s show
must go on
 
Original lyrics

O Bêbado e a Equilibrista

Click to see the original lyrics (Portuguese)

Comments
algebraalgebra    Sun, 15/05/2011 - 20:18

Bem vindo ao LT! :)