When I was 13, a friend of my sister brought me a very old banjo that her father found underused. I was enchanted by that sound and felt like tasting freedom, just like the detached cowboys and folk singers I loved so much.

The two chords I could perform was enough for a deep trip into my imagination and I wrote this song called 'Angelina, Angelina', for the one who was always with me, who only helped me and never asked nothing back. The one who I could trust and the one that would never judge or give me orders. Angelina was my backpack. A delicate fabric structure with one extra pocket, made by hand, with no ambition or brand sign.

On my first album, I had a lot of fun recording the song. Jorge, the drummer, used my very old leather shoes wore in his hands to tap on the studio's wooden floor. I can remember Mario Caldato smiling to the scene.