| Since I was a girl, capricious and northeastern
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| As far as I knew, my fate was to live in Rio
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| In Araripe, I bumped into a jeep driver
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| Who went down to Sergipe for military service
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| This crazy guy dropped me in Pernambuco
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| When a guy with a trebuchet asked me to date
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| Further on, in an interesting state
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| A traveling salesman took me to Macapá
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| A gypsy revealed that my luck
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| It was to stay in that North and I didn't want to believe it
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| I gathered the rags with an old sailor
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| I traveled on your freighter that ran aground in Ceará
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| I went back to Crato, I went to make crafts
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| Good and cheap clay to save money
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| I was a bud and I also did a lot of boy
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| One better done than the other they just need to talk
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| I gathered the offspring and I threw myself into the São Francisco
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| I faced lightning, lightning, current and bad thing
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| I even arranged with an artist in Pirapora
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| One more child and I left, here in Rio I ended up
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| Seeing Ipanema was like drinking Jurema
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| What a cinema scenario, what a poem by the sea
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| And there's no cop, no doctor, no ziquizira
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| I want to see who takes us out of this place
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| Is it true that I arrived in this city
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| For the first authority to decide to chase me away?
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| With the all the stuff, reassemble the Mantiqueira
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| Until I reach the rapids, will the São Francisco take me?
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| Distracting myself in the arms of a sleepy boatman
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| Plunge into Paulo Afonso, the ocean drown me
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| Losing the children in Fernando de Noronha
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| And return dead of shame to the sertão of Quixadá?
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| It makes sense, after so much torment
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| Marry a sergeant and all dreams come to an end?
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| There's no frown, no tractor, no lever
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| I want to see who pulls us out of this place! |