She doesn't look like the beautiful chick I saw back at Lapa
So light that no pair of eyes let her pass unnoticed
Walking as if she were dancing some good samba steps
She also doesn't look like the beautiful chick, whose beauty is even scary
Holding a cup, back at Mercearia São Pedro
Walking on the sidewalk, shining like neon lights
She doesn't look like the girl I saw down in Savassi
That freezes time though it still passes
And that makes eyes follow her wherever she goes
She also isn't the smart girl that is in the BRICs
Wearing casual clothes by Redenção, but so fancy
Singing 'Baby, light my fire' softly
She doesn't look like anyone
Oh, I want her, I wish her well
And I feel that, that she also wants me
She is beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful
So much that I still
Like St. Thomas, already believing
Is doubting she's real
She doesn't look like the beautiful chick I saw back at Jurerê
So curvy and blasé
That even street vendors look at her
In nothing she looks like the dark-haired blonde from Aldeota
An Iracema Barbie doll, using jeans and a boot
Her red eyes as blue as the sea
She is not the beautiful chick from Batel in Babilônia
A dose of vodka, another of insomnia
Mysterious actress of a noir film
She is not the beautiful bahiana from Beco do França
Who talks smart and has beautiful braided hair
Swing, freak out, Ase1, hail hail
She doesn't look like anyone
Oh, I want her, I wish her well
And I feel that, that she also wants me
She is beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful
So much that I still
Like St. Thomas, already believing
She is beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful
So much that I still
Like St. Thomas, already believing
Is doubting she's real
Is doubting she's real
Is doubting she's real
Doubting she's real, doubting she's real
Is doubting she's real
1. Meaning: health to everyone, from Yoruba