Saudades do mar, saudades docê
Eu so quero nadar no Perequê

Funk iluminado, bateria da mangueira
Nosso funk ta ligado de segunda a sexta feira

Funk ritmado com cozinha de primeira
Belo funk revoltado no swingue da rockeira

Funk bagunçado descambando em barulheira
Vira funk sossegado do vovô na gafieira

Funk liberado sem receio sem barreira
Pelo funk misturado com forró e capoeira

Povo mal nutrido da caatinga, do cerrado
Vira povo divertido pelo beat do pecado

Povo destemido de miséria ta cercado
Belo povo colorido da mistura derivado

Povo extrovertido generoso e relaxado
Nosso povo é resolvido teje certo teje errado

Povo emputecido com destino complicado
Pelo povo corrompido que se cala no senado

It’s not those mics called the overheads
And it’s not those crystals that fit into the palm of my hands
No they won’t crack the safe where I piled hundreds of words just for you
Will you try to keep me even if I never break the silence ?

You’re my doudou boy, you’re my hut, you are my intimate shed
I like our groovy love even if we are obviously untuned

We’ll have to gamble
Conceal our secrets
We’ll have to set aside
Our rusty strings
Lead and metals pointed upon us
Our disclocated concerto
Shine and shine with our groovy frequencies
Shall we try to keep on even if we’re never in tune ?

You’re my doudou boy, you’re my hut, you are my intimate shed
I like our groovy love even if we are obviously untuned

And if it was a perfect love, it wouldn’t be the same tune
Wouldn’t you miss those dirty sounds… untuned ?
Untuned…