8 andar

When I saw you close the door, I thought about throwing myself out the window of the 8th floor
Where Mrs. Maria lives, because she adores me and I can always come in
It was about time for you to arrive at the T, look in the mirror at your hair, talk to Mr. Zé
And see me falling on top of you like an anvil falls on any cartoon

And then, just the two of us on the cold floor
Snuggled up right on the curb
On the asphalt marked with chalk
Imagine what a happy scene

When the paramedics arrived and the firefighters removed our bodies from Leblon
We would go to the morgue to play seriously lying down in comfort

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 for you

When I saw you close the door, I thought about throwing myself out the window of the 8th floor
Instead, I turned around and ate a whole blackberry pie for dinner