Red lights around,
Low movement,
The hot air
Just above the ground,
Freezing cold above it,
And the foggy view,
Precising my coordinates:
São Paulo,
The instant karma
Or no karma at all.
The eternal rumble
Humming like Mutants sounds
Confuses my nostalgia
(What is it that I'm hearing?),
And the more I stay,
More roots turn to branches,
More passing faces seem familiar,
And your songs make deep sad sense,
Losing the sadness, losing senses again,
Never ever the same.
A city,
Just a city,
That wouldn't meet
Self esteem if it was not
For the brizzle.
You resemble anywhere
As long as one sees
Signs and the streets' names,
For no one resemble you,
But, yet, all is contained.
The right and the wrong,
The worth, the width,
The asphalt and the airplanes,
The loneliness, the crowds,
The invisibles
And the acquainted that never crossed by,
All circumscribed within the limits
Of your endless boundaries.
