While in the evening a light descends
It shines in a brown environment,
You see a couple in silence
Drinking the absinthe of the thieving time...
Footsteps can be heard from the high
On the damp asphalt
Who knows who it is
Drin did you hear it ringing
the door is open
Make the coffee
This is it's the nostalgia of Mocambo
For those who don't know
A boundless rhythm of rumba
Which goes through the city through the city
But how quickly it rose
/>Again it rang
Nervous... drin drin
Go faster Janine
To open the door
And hide the patin
There is no one
It's a joke
It must be the boys of '73
Let's go back to the dining room and drink
We deserve our coffee
This is the nostalgia of Mocambo< br/>For those who don't know
A boundless rhythm of rumba
That goes through the city, through the city 
. . . . . .

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