This was done by my mang Rian.
He ask me to tell everybody that he's an amateur translator, but for me he did an professional work. Oh Yeah felas!

I used to put a lot of slangs and there's some things that it's realy hard to translate to english. In the Guerreiro song, for exemple, the title Guerreiro we use too as an slang, as an strong guy, an survivor, that know what want and proceed straight for that (it's somehting like that). We did one time an english version of Guerrero and we title as "Don't wanna diñero" (by Rodrigo Leão and Quincas). But it's an version, with a different meaning.
And in this same music I say about a "dress of twenty-five". Twenty-five is a street here in São Paulo, where you can find kind of very cheap things.
Oh, and we did, time ago, an Vem Menina english version too (by Quincas). And the Bridge says:

"Come Menina
Don't do this to me not again
To play it like it should be
My soul and my heart unchain
Let me come and show you
What can not ever be explain
Let me come and show you
What can not ever be explain"

Great 2008 brós an sistas!
cheers
C.


Guerreiro- Warrior

By the window I see shadows in the corners

I see life going and coming, I go with the flow

I leave through the side, I step out into the street

I am going to find you, to know, to know where you are



For I am your warrior

For Im your warrior

Your warrior

For Im your warrior

It frees the poison, frees the poison Frees the poison, Frees the poison Frees the poison, frees
the poison

It frees the poison, girl



Of dress of the Twenty-five
you come from God

Light step and look firm and go with the flow

He tells me still despite she is 'corintiana' sick

I stand up, I attempt to face it and I say it doesn't bother me (!Not sure about this bit either)


For I am your warrior

For Im your warrior

Your warrior

For Im your warrior



Solidao Gasolina- Loneliness Fuel


It gives me your lips

It brings me all of the night

A little emotion

It fires at my heart

It speaks random verses to me

It brings me from the street

A little, a heart

It strips me of this solitude



carbine, fuel

In the quiet of the trumpet

'Anilina' in the enamel

Of the girl, clarinet



Vem Menina - She Comes


She comes

It does not do it that way with me, no

To make fun of truth

Only with the soul and heart

It leaves what I show you

What has no explanation

It holds your rush, baby


Come, come, it can come like how

You took me hostage

Your sexy body

My soul suffers

'Blein, blein', eh


Today it is you who is in charge

In it flows the samba

I swine well the pampas

Shameless word

Nakata in the bed

Insane, to survive a drama



Bitten longing, apple

Accurate kiss, mint

We will go travel, to any place

An afternoon in Itapoã



You're willing and I'm willing

There are times I wait

It comes from the heart

It comes, give your hand to me

I will show you the place




Sertao Urbano - Urban Interior


There's a citizen lost in the immensity

Feels deeply, yes sir

He leaves for the street to discover its straight path, its rose

Scratch the heavens with his hand



Each so solitary,

Has a space in his chest

Has nostalgia of that Saturday

Of the sofa, of the pillow

And rides the street in his car

He follows the rhythm of his irritation

He risks going faster,

That the clock, that the routine

That his route, that the robbery of the thief

And with the signal, stopped

He sees the flight of a bird

That lives with the secrets of the heaven

And feels tired and alone



Immense dreams of nostalgia,

Accomplice in the suffering of the Saintly citizen

And 'sobe' the antenna more high

And it sees that strange beauty in that city,

Of the sensible soldier of Monday

Of its sleep and of the sun,

That seeks a shade of pollution

As he comes down the cliff

Neither does he recognise that the buildings grew

More than his eye achieves

And misses all he did not see…



There a citizen lost in the immensity

Feels deeply, yes sir

He roams the streets to uncover his straight path, his rose

Scratch the heavens with the hand



And feels tired, remembers of the car

Of the robbery of the thief

And comes down alone the antenna more high

He follows the rhythm of his irritations

And 'sobe' to second, the signals, stopped

The bird, the building, shade of the interior

The sleep, the dream, the sofa, the nostalgia

Of the soldier, of the pollution, standstill

Seeks an immense building of dream of nostalgia

Alone in that Saturday and Sunday

he is lost in the immensity

He feels tired and alone

He does not know the secrets of the heavens



There's a citizen lost in the immensity

Feels deeply, yes sir

He roams the street to find his straight path, his rose

Scratch the heavens with the hand