On the first day of spring, they heard the news, the word spread like fire, that she had fallen. The fields on the day were watered with tears, tears that were cried for Chica da Silva. In the morning, they heard the news, the word spread like fire, that she had fallen. The fields on the day were watered with tears, tears that were cried for Chica da Silva. Chica da, Chica da, Chica da, Chica da Silva. She was young and brave, the prime of her life. Fought for her country, became a spy. And men told their secrets, once looked in her eyes. They laid in the arms of Chica da Silva. The game that she played, couldn't last very long. Love she relied on, one day had all gone. Her hands tied together, back on the wall. They shot for life, from Chica da Silva. Chica da, Chica da, Chica da, Chica da Silva. The first day of spring, they heard the news. Word spread like fire, that she had fallen. The fields on that day, were watered with tears. Tears that were cried, for Chica da Silva. She was young and brave, the prime of her life. Fought for her country, became a spy. And men told their secrets, once looked in her eyes. They laid in the arms of Chica da Silva. Chica da, Chica da, Chica da, Chica da Silva. Chica da, Chica da, Chica da, Chica da Silva. Chica da, Chica da, Chica da, Chica da Silva. Chica da, Chica da, Chica da, Chica da Silva.