Idiot wind, blowing through the buttons of our coats,
Blowing through the letters that we wrote.
Idiot wind, blowing through the dust upon our shelves,
We're idiots, babe.
It's a wonder we can even feed ourselves.
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- A Lei Seca
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- Aí Parangolé!
- Chained and Perfumed
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- Da Casa Amarela
- Dias Felizes
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- Embaku
- If Charlie Was a Gunslinger, There'd Be a Whole Lot of Dead Copycats
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