In the middle of the people, in the world of the moon
There's green again on the street corner
In the middle of the people, in the world of the moon
There's green again on the street corner

Hello, my people from Padre Miguel
Let's go
The time is now

I saw
The leather being beaten in Doca's backyard in Madureira
The action happening under the tamarind tree
I saw Mestre Andé and the drum section stop, stop

I spent
Many nights with Zeca and Arlindo rhyming all night long
I received blessings from Beth, Alcione, Bezerra, and João Nogueira
A lot of "partido alto" under the moonlight, moonlight

I sang
With Dona Ivone Lara, Das Neves, Monarco, and with Paulinho
With Mr. Nelson Sargento, Luiz Carlos da Vila, and Martinho
And I learned, my mission in this life is to sing, because

Because I only die when my samba dies
Because I only die when my samba dies
Because I only die when my samba dies, dies, dies
Because I only die when my samba dies

How many times I saw the cavaquinho, the tambourine, and the rooster singing with us
If I die, it will only be from joy when the melody invades the mind
And there's feijoada, oxtail, seasoning from the aunts with blessings from heaven
Padre Miguel! (Padre Miguel!)
I am from Padre Miguel!
It was by beating on the 20-liter can that I made my blocks, sang around
And following the steps of Luna, Marçal, Eliseu, Mestre Ubirany
Samba architects deserve respect and consideration
So firm in the palm of the hand, because

Because I only die when my samba dies
Because I only die when my samba dies (say it, say it)
Because I only die when my samba dies (dies, dies)
Because I only die when my samba dies

How many times I saw the cavaquinho, the tambourine, and the rooster singing with us
If I die, it will only be from joy when the melody invades the mind

And there's feijoada, oxtail, seasoning from the aunts with blessings from heaven
Padre Miguel! (Padre Miguel!)
I am from Padre Miguel!
It was by beating on the 20-liter can that I made my blocks, sang around
And following the steps of Luna, Marçal, Eliseu, Mestre Ubirany
Samba architects deserve respect and consideration (So firm)
So firm in the palm of the hand, because

Because I only die when my samba dies
Because I only die when my samba dies
Because I only die when my samba dies (dies, dies)
Because I only die when my samba dies

It was through the doors of the houses of (?) Days with Ciata, Tomás (?)
That samba entered Rio de Janeiro
Where it would find the best ground to grow and gain body

We are back home, my friend

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