The sun of the night is now rising Something is happening It's not on the radio, nor on the newsstands In every day or anywhere One leaves the factory, the other leaves the home And even the so-called slave women Don't want to serve anymore To the sound of the flute of the snake mother In the hell party, Diagão in the people Baby dance, a very different dance The wind blows through the old streets Capim silvestre, cracks, bare stones On cobblestones that kept terrible stories There is no longer guilty or innocent Each person or thing is different Since it is based on what you punish Who is not you To the sound of the flute of the snake mother In the hell party, Diagão in the people Baby dance, a very different dance My wish is not to steal yours Because what I want is only my function Alternative society, new society It's a shoe on each foot It's the right to be an atheist or to have faith To have a full plate of food that you like the most It's to be carried or to carry people on your back Right to have laughter or pleasure And even the right to let Jesus suffer