Morning light on tile floors Bell above the wooden door Steam rising slow and sweet City waking on its feet Aprons tied, the counter gleams Butter melting like a dream Voices mixing low and bright Bom dia in golden light Glass display of simple art Every loaf a beating heart Oh, Brazilian Bakery You've got a hold on me Nothing in this wide world better than pão with butter on the griddle Dressed and sizzling tender Dipped in café com leite forever (Ba-da-da-da-shoo-be-doo) Steam curls up like morning blue Paper napkin, marble top Tiny spoon that never stops Sugar falling like soft grain Outside buses, inside refrain Simple table, plastic chair But magic floating in the air Oh, Brazilian Bakery A sweet necessity Golden crust and melting center Butter shining, want surrender Dip it slow, don't hesitate Heaven waits in that cafe It's not the size, it's not the show It's how the morning seems to glow In every corner, every towel And a ritual passed around Oh, Brazilian Bakery You're poetry to me Bread on heap, the butter sighs Coffee, milk, and softened bites If love has a taste and shape It's that place at half-past eight (Ba-da-da-up-on-a-shop) (Ba-da-café-com-leite)
