CONSTRUÇÃO by Chico Buarque, new words by Joel Sattler

New title: “The Construction”

He made love to his wife just like it was the end of time

he kissed his wife goodbye just like it was the end of time

And then he hugged his kids like each one was the only one

And then he walked across the street like both his feet were numb

He walked the stairs just like a piece of the machinery

The walls he built himself closed in until he could not breathe

He’d laid the brick himself and the design was magical

The dust of the concrete got in and so his eyes were dull

He sat down on the wall just like it was a Saturday

He ate his beans and rice just like he was a prince at bay

He took a drink and sobbed just like he was a castaway

And then he danced and laughed as if he heard the music play

He tripped and fell into the sky just like a drunkard might

and floated to the earth just like he was a bird in flight

And landed on the ground all broke just like a crumpled heap

he died in agony right in the middle of the street

His body snarling up the traffic every whichaway

He made love to his wife like time was coming to an end

He kissed his wife as if he would not ever kiss again

And then he hugged his kids like each one was the prodigal

And then he walked across the street just like a drunken fool

He climbed up the construction like it was a pedestal

He’d built the landing resting on four walls so magical

He’d built it brick by brick it was so very logical

Through dust of traffic and cement he could not see at all

He sat and rested on the wall just like he was a prince

He ate his beans and rice as if he never ate it since

He drank and then he sobbed just like he was mechanical

And then he laughed and then he danced as if his life was full 

He stumbled in the sky as if he heard the music play

And floated in the air as if it was a Saturday

He came to rest upon the highway bloody, crushed and splayed

Left in the middle of the street just like a castaway

And caused a major traffic jam that lasted through the day

This time he loved his wife as if he was a cold machine

His kissed his wife because it was so logical to seem 

He built a weakness in the walls that only he could see

He sat upon the wall just like the bird he could have been

He floated in the air just like he was the prince of peace

He ended on the ground as broken as a drunk could be

And wound up on the wrong side of the street on Saturday

So for the bread that we eat and for the dirt where we sleep

So for the right to be born and for the smile to say please

So for the catching of breath and for the right to be thee

God will

Reward!

So for the booze and the beer that we all get to imbibe

So for the choke on the smoke and for bad luck that we hide

So for the end of the rope where we all surely will die

God will

Reward!

So for the woman who moans and gives her thanks with a spit

So for the fleas and the worms who will kiss us in hell’s pit

So for the end of the road when we all know this is it

God will

Re-

ward!

_________________________

Original lyrics in Portuguese by Chico Buarque

Amou daquela vez como se fosse a última

Beijou sua mulher como se fosse a última

E cada filho seu como se fosse o único

E atravessou a rua com seu passo tímido

Subiu a construção como se fosse máquina

Ergueu no patamar quatro paredes sólidas

Tijolo com tijolo num desenho mágico

Seus olhos embotados de cimento e lágrima

Sentou pra descansar como se fosse sábado

Comeu feijão com arroz como se fosse um príncipe

Bebeu e soluçou como se fosse um náufrago

Dançou e gargalhou como se ouvisse música

E tropeçou no céu como se fosse um bêbado

E flutuou no ar como se fosse um pássaro

E se acabou no chão feito um pacote flácido

Agonizou no meio do passeio público

Morreu na contramão atrapalhando o tráfego

Amou daquela vez como se fosse o último

Beijou sua mulher como se fosse a única

E cada filho seu como se fosse o pródigo

E atravessou a rua com seu passo bêbado

Subiu a construção como se fosse sólido

Ergueu no patamar quatro paredes mágicas

Tijolo com tijolo num desenho lógico

Seus olhos embotados de cimento e tráfego 

Sentou pra descansar como se fosse um príncipe

Comeu feijão com arroz como se fosse o máximo

Bebeu e soluçou como se fosse máquina

Dançou e gargalhou como se fosse o próximo

E tropeçou no céu como se ouvisse música

E flutuou no ar como se fosse sábado

E se acabou no chão feito um pacote tímido

Agonizou no meio do passeio naufrago

Morreu na contramão atrapalhando o público

Amou daquela vez como se fosse máquina

Beijou sua mulher como se fosse lógico

Ergueu no patamar quatro paredes flácidas

Sentou pra descansar como se fosse um pássaro

E flutuou no ar como se fosse um príncipe

E se acabou no chão feito um pacote bêbado

Morreu na contra-mão atrapalhando o sábado

Por esse pão pra comer, por esse chão prá dormir

A certidão pra nascer e a concessão pra sorrir

Por me deixar respirar, por me deixar existir,

Deus lhe pague

Pela cachaça de graça que a gente tem que engolir

Pela fumaça e a desgraça, que a gente tem que tossir

Pelos andaimes pingentes que a gente tem que cair,

Deus lhe pague

Pela mulher carpideira pra nos louvar e cuspir

E pelas moscas bicheiras a nos beijar e cobrir

E pela paz derradeira que enfim vai nos redimir,

Deus lhe pague

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