Oitavo Andar
Clarice Falcão
Eighth Floor
When I saw you close the door
I thought about throwing myself out the eighth floor window
Where Mrs. Maria lives, because she loves me
And I can always come in
It was the exact time for you to arrive at the ground floor
Look at your hair in the mirror, talk to Sir Zé
And see me falling above you
Like an anvil falls on some random cartoon
And then, just the two of us on the cold floor
Spooning right on the curb
On the asphalt contoured with chalk
Imagine what a happy scene
When the paramedics arrived
And the firefighters removed our bodies from Leblon
We would go to the mortuary
Playing to be serious, lying down comfortably
Each one like a popsicle
With the same tag on the foot
In the autopsy it would be possible to see
How I only died because of you
When I saw you close the door
I thought about throwing myself out the eighth floor window
Instead, I turned around
And ate a whole blackberry pie for dinner
