I don't want to see you anymore
You hurt me so much with that professional smile
On a six-meter billboard
Or stuck on all the windows

I don't want to see you anymore, dear
While you sip a bitter orangeade
With an ecstatic expression
Of someone who has finally achieved a goal in life

I don't want to see you on the wall in front of a hole
Where someone has drawn cheap pornography
Oh no, I don't want to see you while you cook spaghetti
With tomato weight truth three hundred grams

While a fool entering from the door
Shouts a cheer with his mouth open
With transparent toothpaste
Where they make you say it enlightens the mind

And while you wear a super, super, super bra
For a housewife full of venom
And while you talk with a simple extra
Dressed as a doctor, what a bad farce

They make you feed ignorance
Pretending to use science
Oh no

Ah but it's a Brazilian song
Ah but it's a Brazilian song
Ah but it's a Brazilian song

Yet you are no less beautiful at home without makeup
I don't want to say you're a rose, I would be a trombone
But I would like to see you sometimes in a bikini
Without backgrounds of distant islands and stay a bit close

I would like to see you while you pick the salad from the garden
That I would have liked to have grown before I died
Oh no even if you earn a hundred thousand lire a day
You can't forget that life is round trip

Oh no, no oh no
I don't want to see you selling days and evenings
I will understand if one day you want another man
But you can't consume your life like this

You can't participate in that story
Where you tell that gasoline almost, almost, almost purifies the air
The last slag will be menthol
Photographed together with children

That you entrust to the phosphorus of the cheese

Ah but it's a Brazilian song
Ah but it's a Brazilian song
Ah but it's a Brazilian song

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