My band plays the rock
And all the rest is as required,
We know well that our demand
Is to do everything.
It's a baby rock,
Only a bit Latin,
A music which is the hope,
A music which is the patience.
And like a train which has passed,
Loaded with fruits,
We were on the station, yes,
But we slept all.
And my band plays the rock
For someone who has it seen and for someone who was not there
And for someone who that day
Followed his chimera.
Oh, don't wake up!
Oh, not now!
And don't stop here!
Oh, no, oh, please, no.
My band plays the rock
And changes the image as required
Since the transformism
has become a demand.
You see us in crinoline
Like bad ballerinas,
You see us dancing
Like persistent youths.
You see us on the border
In a broken car
But anyway it will be,
The music is our pass.
It's a baby rock,
Only a bit Latin,
It travels without passport,
And we are behind with a short breath.
It will penetrate through the walls,
It will break a breach on the door
But actually it will come to tell you
That your soul has not died.
Oh, don't wake up!
Oh, not now!
And don't stop here!
Oh, no, oh, please, no.
My bad plays the rock
And it's an eternal departure,
It travels well on middle waves
And in the modulation of frequency.
It's a baby rock,
Only a bit Latin,
A music which is the hope,
A music which is the patience.
And like a train which has passed,
Loaded with fruits,
We were on the station, yes,
But we slept all.
And my band plays the rock
For someone who has it seen and for someone who was not there
And for someone who that day
Followed his chimera.
Oh, don't wake up!
Oh, not now!
And don't stop here!
Oh, no, oh, please, no.