SAMBA DO

When my people dance

On the streets of Brazil

The ground begins to shake

No one can stand still 

The mandolin’s sorrow

Reminds us of Sonny —

A young man full of talent

Yet empty of money

When my people dance

Life becomes complete

Blending ups and downs

On the same street

The confetti and streamers

Remind us of Mrs. Green

Sprinkling salt and pepper

Over the cooking beans

When we dance we wash it all away

We sin, we regret, we pray

Nothing can break us down

We dance together like kings and clowns

Samba do! Samba dah! Tropical jewel!

Samba is the true Brazilian school

We learn the alphabet primer

From the songs of the old-timers

We learn the multiplication table

Right straight from the old wooden cradle

Clapping hands, swinging feet

Listening to the sound of heartbeats