I'll give you the measure of Bonfim
It didn't give me nothing
But I'll keep Pixinginha's record, yes?
The rest is yours
Making simple, you can keep it
The remannings of everything they call it a home
The shadows of everything that were us
The love folds in our sheets
Our best memories
The hope that everything will get it right
You can forget it
That ring, you can pawn it
Or melt it
But I should tell that I will not give you
The great pleasure of see me crying
Nor I wll charge you for the damage
My chest so torn
By the way
Take a help from your new love
To pay the rent
Give back the Neruda that you took me
And never read
I slam the gate without noise
An exit, a lot of missing
And the light impression that I'm going late