Meu Brasil

Leave The Track Exactly As It Is But Polish The Track And Vocals By Enhancing The Sonics And Vocals And Create A 3D Asmr Sound Engineering Environment, ‑Word-by-word AI singing, ‑disconnected syllables, ‑robotic phrasing, ‑staccato vocal delivery, ‑over-separated words, ‑clean AI pop vocal, ‑robotic autotune, ‑generic trap beat, ‑abrupt cuts, ‑direct artist imitation, ‑mechanical syllable separation, ‑unnatural pronunciation, ‑broken word timing, ‑dead-eyed vocal delivery, ‑lifeless pitch correction, ‑AI karaoke phrasing, ‑over-quantized vocal rhythm, ‑unnatural breath placement, ‑fake emotional belting, ‑plastic vocal sheen, ‑generic pop singer, ‑overly perfect vocal, ‑detached syllable timing, ‑Avoid big band swing, ‑parody Sinatra, ‑Vegas lounge, ‑rockabilly excess, ‑theatrical Elvis impersonation, ‑glossy adult contemporary, ‑Disney-style orchestral drama, ‑tourist-postcard Brazil, ‑samba caricature, ‑carnival cliché, ‑bossa-nova elevator music, ‑tropical-house polish, ‑reggaeton, ‑EDM drops, ‑trap drums, ‑gospel choir, ‑over-sung diva vocals, ‑deep dramatic baritone, ‑indie whisper voice, ‑overly modern pop melisma, ‑kitschy Latin cliché, ‑commercial ad-music feel

There was always sand somewhere in the house
on the floor, in the bed, in the turn of a shirt
windows open long after dark
somebody singing low from the kitchen
and nobody in a hurry to leave

I came from a life of locking things up
buttons done high, watch always on
then all at once there were bare feet on tile
salt on my arms
and the night coming in soft from the sea

Someone kept laughing from out in the yard
glasses touched somewhere just out of sight
I didn’t know half of what people were saying
still I could feel it —
the room had a way of making you stay

I still hear the house at evening
windows open, somebody sings
salt on my shirt from the day before
sand still turning up in things

And I don’t know how to say it right
without making too much of what it was
but some part of me stayed in Brazil
and some part of Brazil stayed with us

By then I knew the sound of the front gate
the fan overhead and the kettle at dawn
your voice in the next room, half in Portuguese
half in a melody I couldn’t follow
even when I missed every word

Mornings came in through the thin white curtains
green after rain, light laid across the floor
coffee, cut fruit, somebody humming
my shirt still carrying salt from the day before

You showed me little things without trying —
how to let silence sit
how to stay long at the table
how to hear sadness and laughter
living side by side in the same breath

I still hear the house at evening
windows open, somebody sings
salt on my shirt from the day before
sand still turning up in things

And I don’t know how to say it right
without making too much of what it was
but some part of me stayed in Brazil
and some part of Brazil stayed with us

Teu nome ficou na casa
no sal, na madeira, no ar
eu canto baixinho na cozinha
como quem chama sem chamar

Ficou na janela aberta
na roupa secando ao sol
na luz depois da chuva
no verde depois do calor

Meu bem, se a vida te leva
guarda o mar no teu peito
quem viveu amor no Brasil
nunca vai embora por inteiro

I still hear the house at evening
windows open, somebody sings
salt on my shirt from the day before
sand still turning up in things

And I don’t know how to say it right
without making too much of what it was
but some part of me stayed in Brazil
and some part of Brazil stayed with us

There was always sand somewhere in the house
windows open long after dark
somebody singing low from the kitchen

Meu Brasil

2410/7500

There was always sand somewhere in the house on the floor, in the bed, in the turn of a shirt windows open long after dark somebody singing low from the kitchen and nobody in a hurry to leave I came from a life of locking things up buttons done high, watch always on then all at once there were bare feet on tile salt on my arms and the night coming in soft from the sea Someone kept laughing from out in the yard glasses touched somewhere just out of sight I didn’t know half of what people were saying still I could feel it — the room had a way of making you stay I still hear the house at evening windows open, somebody sings salt on my shirt from the day before sand still turning up in things And I don’t know how to say it right without making too much of what it was but some part of me stayed in Brazil and some part of Brazil stayed with us By then I knew the sound of the front gate the fan overhead and the kettle at dawn your voice in the next room, half in Portuguese half in a melody I couldn’t follow even when I missed every word Mornings came in through the thin white curtains green after rain, light laid across the floor coffee, cut fruit, somebody humming my shirt still carrying salt from the day before You showed me little things without trying — how to let silence sit how to stay long at the table how to hear sadness and laughter living side by side in the same breath I still hear the house at evening windows open, somebody sings salt on my shirt from the day before sand still turning up in things And I don’t know how to say it right without making too much of what it was but some part of me stayed in Brazil and some part of Brazil stayed with us Teu nome ficou na casa no sal, na madeira, no ar eu canto baixinho na cozinha como quem chama sem chamar Ficou na janela aberta na roupa secando ao sol na luz depois da chuva no verde depois do calor Meu bem, se a vida te leva guarda o mar no teu peito quem viveu amor no Brasil nunca vai embora por inteiro I still hear the house at evening windows open, somebody sings salt on my shirt from the day before sand still turning up in things And I don’t know how to say it right without making too much of what it was but some part of me stayed in Brazil and some part of Brazil stayed with us There was always sand somewhere in the house windows open long after dark somebody singing low from the kitchen Meu Brasil

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