Underneath her skirt
There's a jacaranda tree
There's some inga fruit, boy
There are windows for the whole world, boy
Underneath her skirt
There's a tan-tan and a tambourine
The beauty of Portinari's paintings
The certainty of hapinness
Saturday morning I walked down the slope
And saw the boy, looking like a wax doll
In love, flustered
He set up a shed on that corner
The first time the girl passed by
She bought a popsicle from his cart
This poor boy put down roots there
Not moving even to go to the bathroom
Eyes wide open, waiting for the girl
Body like slinks, clothes all unstraightened
Waiting for the girl to cross the corner
Unmovable, becoming mosquito food
The long skirt she was wearing
Fascinated him, and he asked me
'Hey, ma'am, what does she carry
Underneath that skirt, so carefully?'
I called his father, I called his mother
No one could take that boy away from there
I called his father, I called his mother
No one could take that boy away from there
Eyes wide open, waiting for the girl
Body like slinks, clothes all unstraightened
Waiting for the girl to cross the corner
Unmovable, becoming mosquito food
The long skirt she was wearing
Fascinated him, and he asked me
'Hey, ma'am, what does she carry
Underneath that skirt, so carefully?'
Eyes wide open, waiting for the girl
Body like slinks, clothes all unstraightened
Waiting for the girl to cross the corner
Unmovable, becoming mosquito food
The long skirt she was wearing
Fascinated him, and he asked me
'Hey, ma'am, what does she carry
Underneath that skirt, so carefully?'
And I said
'Underneath her skirt
There's a jacaranda tree
There's some inga fruit, boy
There are windows for the whole world, boy
Underneath her skirt
There's a tan-tan and a tambourine
The beauty of Portinari's paintings
The certainty of hapinness'
I called his father, I called his mother
No one could take that boy away from there
I called his father, I called his mother
No one could take that boy away from there