
The politics and the power harmonize very well 
Many political, few vague places in the podium 
The competition rises, in my breasts they blunt her full 
The Sun travels the distances of everyday 
He illuminates the obscure, powerful corridors of the bank art 
That they lead to the heavy underground safes for the carats 
of the diamonds-producing moaned yolks 
and unhealthy oil company’s 
  The Bantus opens the foundations of the shouting: 
it dawns, the tan rises leaves to the search without life 
He walked, it navigated, she looked, she dreamed 
she returns, she didn't find the lost time 
This tanned now, she adores to dream 
She reverted, she lost walking, it continues to retreat 
without independence 
  They invited me to the New Year to pass 
I refused. I became obstinate, I passed it in the he is hit of mabanga
(culinary. Regionalism: Angola (South). 
shellfish roasted in the own peel or soaked with okra, pumpkin, palm oil olive oil and seasonings, and served with corn funje. In Dictionary Houaiss) 
Roasted, savoured with maluvo (obtained drink of the fermentation of the sap of a palm tree known as bordão, very appreciated at some African countries;( In Dictionary Houaiss)
in the honest company of the growth of mangroves 
We had fun immense. As the cease-fire, and everything continues in the same 
We don't have pictures, we don't want them, we ran with them 
to maintain the disorganization that leads the mother of the corruption 
And everything is not framed… it retreats to the Medium Age… to Richard Leakey's origins 
People that doesn't read are blind… and he doesn't see 
Only the sewers are free, the theme never becomes exhausted 
  I saw that we walked hopelessly for the destruction 
and we smiled as always. We were finally free, independent 
owners of our destiny, of our future 
Free! In my bifurcation of the mabanga in the growth of mangroves 
Brilliant! How to call somebody, or to say that is genius 
because there are many idiots 
That they stanch a floodgate and the another continue with escapes 
In this Angola we cannot make anything certain 
because everything is wrong 
  I come undone in the scarps of my hair 
to the wait that everything becomes pregnant her in a minute of life 
He stays in the eternity, of the uneasiness 
I observe a lot of people to struggle in favour and against 
The obstacles are many, few the defenders 
I await the winner in the opposites 
His ballad of the days to get better 
without struggling!? 
In the Earth they remain the last fire rays 
and in her anything of human, nobody for stopping 
  I hear two people in only one. With which I should speak?! 
With the healthy or the drunk? Which of the two should listen?! 
I prefer to consult my statute of citizen of the social exclusion 
without cottages 
Meanwhile, the circus of the organizations no government it continues 
The decolonizing of the infamous hypocrisy develop in the trapeze 
The men are all same ones, the political systems no 
The men are different in the colour of the skin 
but the minds are intact, they don't differ, they converge 
The genetics is very knowing: 
the cruelty doesn't have colour, hypocrisy also not 
Until the children they renounce the parents, these also 
The tree grows to be closer of the Sun 
The son leaves the parents to die to the hunger, the parents also 
  The birds fly for the trees because they feel safe 
Dawn with the silence because the night was noisy 
Image: Angola em fotos
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