Ed Motta - Poptical

Fox do Detetive

Atenção
Desse prédio em frente deve descer
Uma mulher
Que horas são?
Inclemente bate o sol do verão
Brisa sequer
Meus fiéis charutos
Foram-se em minutos
Pudesse, ia agora para os lagos
Guardo alguns
Enfadonhos documentos do azar
Pistas quaisquer
Para uns
A mulher nunca se deixa apanhar
Só quando quer
Nada nos redime
Comparando os crimes
Pudesse, ia embora pra bem longe
Ir atrás da fera, uma pantera em minha mãos
Uma surpresa já lhe espera,
Conan Doyle nem pudera compreender
Quanto dói em mim, sim
Palmas pra quem vive
Livre dessas tramas
Pudesse, me mandava pras Bahamas

Credits
Writer(s): Eduardo Motta, Francisco Eduardo Fagundes Amaral
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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