Hoje choveu-nos e até amanhã

And I will stroll the merry way and jump the hedges first, and I will drink the clear clean water for to quench my thirst, and I shall watch the ferry-boats and they'll get high on a bluer ocean against tomorrows sky, and I will never grow so old again, and I will walk and talk in gardens all wet with rain, oh sweet thing, my sweet thing. And I shall drive my chariot down your streets and cry, hey, it's me, I'm dynamite and I don't know why, and you shall take me strongly in your arms again, and I will not remember that I ever felt the pain, we shall walk and talk in gardens all misty wet with rain, and I will never, never grow so old again, oh sweet thing, my sweet thing. And I will raise my hand up into the night time sky and count the stars that's shining in your eye, just to dig it all and not to wonder, that's just fine, and I'll be satisfied not to read in between the lines, and I will walk and talk in gardens all wet with rain. And I will never ever grow so old again. Oh sweet thing, my sweet thing, with your champagne eyes and your saint-like smile.