I think I am a dog yes
I think I am a cachorrim
My life goes
A year include seven
Towards the end
I think nobody has dó of me
Almost no spare me some time
I know well anywhere
Outside of work
I think this city
So bad
I think nobody has dó of me
Every day a baby born
Pra divide the life with you
Every day will rise
Babies with a half life living pra
Every day will rise
Ié ié ié!
I am so dedicated to be common
Years go through one by one
And time ahead
Comigo is different
I thus:
Seven, fourteen, twenty-one.