Daughter of practice
Daughter of tactic
Daughter of machinery
This shameless cave
Of the entrails
Is always accommodating
Shove your grandiosity
In the corner bank
Shove it up your verb
You son of a letter
Shove your usury
In the multinational
Shove it up your virgin
You son of a cross
Shove your morals
Rules and regulations
Offices and neck-ties
Your solemn sessions
Gather everything around
Spread the Vaseline
Shove, push, cram it into
Your tank of gasoline
Arrastâo of Rimsky Korsakov and of the anonymous musicians who play in the São Paulo night