Era Domingo
Era domingo, era do mundo
Meu olhar perplexo
Na voz navalha; vida, migalha
E eu quero mais que isso
Toda beleza na fortaleza
De um céu cheio de azuis
Música bela pela janela
Soava feito um blues
E eu tão só, tão sem ninguém
Em meio ao pó da multidão
Na boca um doce, amargo travo
Eu livre, escravo da paixão
Raiava o dia e as Três Marias
(Triste constelação)
Àquela hora, reféns da aurora
Como meu coração
E eu tão só, tão sem ninguém
Em meio ao pó da multidão
Na boca um doce, amargo travo
Eu livre, escravo da paixão
E eu tão só, tão sem ninguém
Em meio ao pó da multidão
Na boca um doce, amargo travo
Eu livre, escravo da paixão
Era domingo, era do mundo
Meu olhar perplexo
Na voz navalha; vida, migalha
E eu quero mais que isso
Toda beleza na fortaleza
De um céu cheio de azuis
Música bela pela janela
Soava feito um blues
Era domingo, era do mundo
Era domingo, era do mundo
Era domingo, era do mundo
Era domingo
It was Sunday
It was Sunday, it was of the world
My perplexed gaze
In the razor voice; life, crumb
And I want more than that
All beauty in the fortress
Of a sky full of blues
Beautiful music through the window
Sounded like a blues
And I so alone, so without anyone
In the dust of the crowd
In my mouth a sweet, bitter taste
I free, slave of passion
The day was breaking and the Three Marys
(Sad constellation)
At that hour, hostages of dawn
Like my heart
And I so alone, so without anyone
In the dust of the crowd
In my mouth a sweet, bitter taste
I free, slave of passion
And I so alone, so without anyone
In the dust of the crowd
In my mouth a sweet, bitter taste
I free, slave of passion
It was Sunday, it was of the world
My perplexed gaze
In the razor voice; life, crumb
And I want more than that
All beauty in the fortress
Of a sky full of blues
Beautiful music through the window
Sounded like a blues
It was Sunday, it was of the world
It was Sunday, it was of the world
It was Sunday, it was of the world
It was Sunday
Escrita por: Zeca Baleiro