| Today I came to my denial
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| How do I come when I can
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| In the mouth the same words
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| In the chest the same remorse
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| In my hands the same guitar where I recorded your name (bis)
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| I've been coming from Samba for a while, denies it
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| I come to stop there
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| First I found Zé Fuleiro who told me about the disease
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| That luck never comes to you
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| Who is without love and without money
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| He asked if he didn't have someone who could give
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| I then pulled the viola
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| I sang a Samba for him
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| It was a syncopated samba
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| Who made fun of his bad luck
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| Today I came, my denies
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| Walking with you in space
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| try to make in your arms a pure Samba of love
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| No melody or word so as not to lose value (bis)
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| Then I found your Bento, denies
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| Who drank all night
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| Stretched out on the sidewalk
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| without any will
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| Forgot the commitment he made to his wife
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| Not arriving early in the morning
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| and don't drink cachaça anymore
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| She even made a promise
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| She paid and regretted it
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| I sang a Samba for him who smiled and fell asleep
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| Today I came, my denies
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| wanting that smile
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| That you deliver to heaven
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| When I hold you in my arms
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| Keep my guitar, my love and my fatigue well (BIS)
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| Finally I found a body, denies it
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| lit around
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| They said it was silly
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| One wanted to be better
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| It wasn't love or money that caused the discussion
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| It was just a tambourine
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| Which then stayed on the floor
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| I didn't take my viola
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| I stopped, I looked, I walked away
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| No one would understand a Samba at that time
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| Today I came, my denies
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| Not knowing anything about life
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| Wanting to learn with you the way of living
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| Things are in the world but I need to learn (bis) |