Lyrics of Repertório Bom - Michel Teló

Repertório Bom (original)

Hoje eu tava na vibe de beber sozinho
Já peguei um lugar no canto do barzinho
Pra sofrer despercebido
Pro choro passar batido
Tava até curtindo o buteco silencioso
Mal sabia eu que as nove chegava o moço
Com uma Caixa de Som, Sanfona e Cajón
Eu esperei pra ver se o repertorio era bom
Aí foi só tocar o violão
Que a mesa já virou a percussão
Eu vi garrafa virar microfone
E as moda bruta arranca lagrima de homem
Aí foi só tocar o violão
Que a mesa já virou a percussão
Eu vi garrafa virar microfone
E as moda bruta arranca lágrima de homem
No fim do show eu nem lembrava meu nome
Tava até curtindo um buteco silencioso
Mal sabia eu que às nove chegava o moço
Com uma Caixa de Som, Sanfona e Cajón
Eu esperei pra ver se o repertório era bom
Aí foi só tocar o violão
Que a mesa já virou a percussão
Eu vi garrafa virar microfone
E as moda bruta arranca lagrima de homem
Aí foi só tocar o violão
Que a mesa já virou a percussão
Eu vi garrafa virar microfone
E as moda bruta arranca lágrima de homem
No fim do show eu nem lembrava meu nome

(translation)

Today I was in the alone drinking vibe
I already took a place in the corner of the bar
to suffer unnoticed
For crying to pass
I was even enjoying the silent pub
Little did I know that at nine the young man arrived
With a Sound Box, Accordion and Cajón
I waited to see if the repertoire was good
Then it was just playing the guitar
That the table has already become the percussion
I saw a bottle turn into a microphone
And the gross fashion makes man's tears
Then it was just playing the guitar
That the table has already become the percussion
I saw a bottle turn into a microphone
And the gross fashion pulls a man's tear
At the end of the show I didn't even remember my name
I was even enjoying a silent pub
Little did I know that at nine the young man arrived
With a Sound Box, Accordion and Cajón
I waited to see if the repertoire was good
Then it was just playing the guitar
That the table has already become the percussion
I saw a bottle turn into a microphone
And the gross fashion makes man's tears
Then it was just playing the guitar
That the table has already become the percussion
I saw a bottle turn into a microphone
And the gross fashion pulls a man's tear
At the end of the show I didn't even remember my name