PRINTING Every day is gray In a city of stone and ground Everyone hides from pollution Children of loneliness Poor guys in rich cars Rich guys in a lot. Cars and guys are the same: Just one more ID. The penumbra falls; the plant is born Away from the weaver's gaze, Which will serve, in the cold, of wire Of cotton Everything goes through us Everything fits in our voice But there are no sounds in the air May they awaken the crowd Lives that cross the street Lives that go missing in a station Lives are the same In any situation “Love everyone” may not be enough To escape the dark war - What? But what happens to that love When, from the ashes, a new feeling arises Maybe even more powerful. Maybe a new love Or a new way to love One day the sun will come One day the sea will turn Every tear I can shed A heart Alms to the blind, who lends No one's eyes a dog; And there's your bed on the street Stone and ground. Alms the poor, who ‘inda lives Dream and bread... Loving everyone may not be The solution. Pale, anonymous Pardos, poor nation, They're the beautiful part Population Every day is gray: The sun doesn't come to break The darkness.