| Rhythm Machine
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| So practical, so easy to connect
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| Nothing but a good button
|
| Under the light pressure of the thumb
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| I could bequeath a dictionary
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| Of measures for you
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| In the future you will play
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| My samba unintentionally hard
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| Rhythm Machine
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| Who dances in this digital dance
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| It will be for example
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| That my deaf person will be mute after all
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| Hanging like a dinosaur
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| At the Carnival Museum
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| If you bet the answer is yes
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| For God send a sign
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| Rhythm Machine
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| Programming of sequential sounds
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| More than 100 million bamboos
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| From virtual samba schools
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| Virtual, virtuous strands
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| Of endless variations
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| Henceforth sambe onwards
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| No longer needing me
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| Rhythm Machine
|
| Who knows, a good pirlimpimpim powder
|
| Can delete the pain of those
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| Left the tambourine aside
|
| Despite your computer
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| Having good samba, bad samba
|
| If I press the button, my heart
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| You have to say that it's samba, yes
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| Rhythm Machine
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| Process of standard algorithms
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| Multiple binary and ternary
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| Quartermasters without passions
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| Eighth notes, semi-quavers
|
| Fusas, semi-fusas, sensations
|
| In the halls of Rio's nights
|
| New techno-illusions
|
| Rhythm Machine
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| That the post-eternals will silence
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| New angels from hell go
|
| For anything in your place
|
| Who knows, they'll exchange you for one.
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| Such a mute deaf from the museum
|
| And Bands of the moon will come to meet
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| On a beach every full moon to remember you and me
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| Moreno, Domenico, Cassim
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| So my children, your children
|
| And Bands of the moon will come to meet
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| On a beach every full moon to remember
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| Just to remember
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| just to sing
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| just to play
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| Just to remember
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| You and I |