Nossa Música

When languages are mixed.

Chegamos no momento

Estou confusa

Cheia de insegurança e superstição

Estou sentindo falta do seu violão

Dedos nas cordas

Música em volta

Ajuda os sentidos, solta

Agora nós chegamos no momento

Lips only sing when they cannot kiss

And darling it is you that I'm missing

I know your trouble road goes far behind

And if we take a rest

We return to hapiness

Our hearts are fragile but our love is strong

Olha para trás, não dá para ver

Cedo demais para entender

Já flutuamos em cima e afogamos no mar

Paixão que medo que dá

Tem mais que nós dois

O passado é presente, sempre vai ser

Nossa música nesse momento

Ela é Carioca

Celebrating the 40 years of the 25th of April we still talk about «her». When I begin to reflect about the colors of freedom, rather than white, or red from carnations, I see a tall yellow sun reflected over the sea and mirrored on the horizon. It is very hard to open your eyes and see through what we have to live. Carioca is a native from Rio de Janeiro, where there's a sense of joy in the air. I believe Freedom is from Brasil. In music, we can change the language but the main part remains.

The Awakening Of A Woman

Good thing to write in English is that the effort to write poetic prose fades. The reason is I do not have the full capacity to evaluate the quality of my writing when I write in another language. On the other hand, I have much more to say in Portuguese, and always in the broadest and most creative sense. The composition is more pure, the notes are released more naturally. Energy is lost in translation. I need literature in English, reading great novels to improve my performance. In the meantime, I've been listening to the new poem of Matilde Campilho and felt exactly this feeling. That is good. Too good to miss. And I miss writing in my language. It's my way of freedom.

Song On The Beach

Impossible love or not so... if the passion is an illusion. I know it is not impossible. Some species of love and merriment do not conform hearts. I understand nothing about loving a machine but that feeling might live in a small gap between being awake and the other place where you want to get to sleep. After that stage in mind, you wake completely empty. And no smell of other skin, without the touch of the hair, without the heat that reaches the bodies millimeters apart. No nothing because love is too much important.

Your Ghost

A ghost is something that you left behind. It is created mentally and reinvents itself. Then, all things seem what they aren't. There was a large huge palace and one day the windows were broken and all silences crawled up inside. There was a sense in the air of all that had been there before. Ghosts belong to memories and memories are ghosts.

«These Ghosts Are Not Mine» @ Monsanto, Lisboa 

I think last night, you were driving circles around me. 

Atoms for Peace (Four Tet Remix)

«Love hides in molecular structures» J.M.

No more going to the dark side

With your flying saucer eyes

No more falling down a wormhole

That I have to pull you out

Wriggling, twiggling worm inside

Devours from the inside out

No more talk about the old days

It's time for something great

I want you to get out

And make it work

So many lies

So many lies

So many lies

So many lies

So feel the love come off of them

And take me in your arms

Peel all of your layers off

I want to eat your artichoke heart

No more leaky holes in your brain

And no more false starts

I wanna get out

And make it work

So many lies

So many lies

So many lies

So many lies

So feel the love come off of them

And take me in your arms

I wanna get out

And make it work

I want you to get out

And make it work

I'll be ok

So many lies

So many lies

So many lies

So feel the love come off of them

And take me in your arms