Trigo
Será que ele medo já tomou?
Será que em ti a mansidão acabou?
O honroso trigo, como queira chamar
Há nós o figo, o fruto deste amar
Chora amor
Que o que eu quero é confessar
Que quero o rubor
Dos teus lábios roubar
Quero a colheita nas manhãs em tu
Nenhum dos dois sabe ceifar
Será que em ti a mansidão acabou?
O honroso trigo, como queira chamar
Há nós o figo, o fruto deste amar
Chora amor
Que o que eu quero é confessar
Que quero o rubor
Dos teus lábios roubar
Quero a colheita nas manhãs em tu
Nenhum dos dois sabe ceifar
Credits
Writer(s): Ana Moura
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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