[Intro - spoken, soft, over guitar] Ouro Preto. Última manhã. Three rounds. Three questions. Not to find one answer — to notice what happens when currents meet. [Verse 1] We put the paper on the table, we wrote while we talked — the mountains held the morning, the whole town built on gold. Somebody drew a membrane, things pass and are changed passing through; somebody drew two rivers and then a third one grew. [Pre-Chorus] Receptividade, Recepción, Receptivity — um propósito comum não precisa de uma só língua. [Chorus] Deixa os rios se encontrarem, deixa cada rio ser. We don't have to merge to share the flow. Cleave together, cleave apart — nem tudo o que se ajunta se mistura, difference is where perception starts. [Verse 2] Alguém provou as perguntas — bitter, salty, sometimes sweet. Somebody wrote theory six times over then asked what happens in the street. Pororoca subindo o rio, the sea climbing against the flow — neither water gives an inch, neither lets go. [Chorus] Deixa os rios se encontrarem, deixa cada rio ser. We don't have to merge to share the flow. Cleave together, cleave apart — nem tudo o que se ajunta se mistura, difference is where perception starts. [Bridge - quieter, percussion drops] Ouro debaixo de Ouro Preto, data centres somewhere new — extraction changes clothing but the old thread still runs through. E de quem é a língua da colheita? Whose words are never heard? — Could you repeat? — …Não. Sometimes absence is the loudest word. [Verse 3] Then: what should stay unfinished? And we answered: what do we do? Now what? Action? Can people really do something? Não salvar o mundo — be more a part of it. Somebody wrote URGÊNCIA, circled it, and crossed it out. [Breakdown - call and answer, two voices] Como mudamos? — Elegantly. How do we meet uncertainty? — Playfully. Quem sentou nesta cadeira antes de mim? Who will sit here when I'm gone? Se você tivesse um desejo cibernético — what would cybernetics do? [Final Chorus] Deixa os rios se encontrarem, deixa cada rio ser. Let the pororoca turn us, let the woven colours show — nem tudo o que se ajunta se mistura, not everything that comes together has to mix to grow. [Outro - sparse, almost spoken] Uma membrana. Um cruzamento. A helix. A river running upstream. Um avião de papel. A falling body caught by another. Uma conversa que se recusa a terminar. Deixa a confluência continuar.
