We Are Still Here (Samba)

The crowd is delirium, color tangled with voices laughter cracks, whistles slice through heavy air a spinning force pulling, shaking, claiming every body skin against skin, sweat shining under cheap lights “Isso é carnaval carioca”… everything feels allowed This is Rio’s parade confetti stuck to wet concrete sequins caught in drains, broken glass along the curbs a rawness so wide it turns sweet joy carried by tired feet voices lifting through the beat the street wide open beneath something we don’t want to meet… There’s a scent of people, hot, thick, sweating, alive a mix of races - rhythms start colliding but morning splits what night tried to blend and music drifts into morning and headlines Hear the drums, we are still here strike hard, don’t disappear dance, run, drop, hide through the crowd feel the drums, we are still here the “surdo” hits like a warning and nothing keeps quiet now The south side sleeps easy, the “favela” stays awake costumes shine, songs cut short as the parades fade but masks fall heavy with spilled drink bloody glitter melts into the street it's crystal clear, it’s crystal clear in how it all repeats [instrumental break] Carnival is a ritual without walls bodies turning on asphalt without asking for answers a fragile hour of release some sort of momentary peace [children’s choir] leftovers in the square, feathers in the rain folly dissolving, slipping out of frame yesterday’s samba still clings to the air today something watches, quietly there [children’s choir] we are still here… we are still here…