Florianópolis, Brazil. The locals call it Floripa.
For over forty years, the owner of Bar do Arante has been pinning love notes to the ceiling.
Napkins, business cards, receipts — anything anyone would write on.
This song is about the last night of the summer season.
Saudade is the Portuguese word for a longing that starts before the thing you love has even left.
Gabriela sang forró standing on top of a picnic table.
Forty years of love notes on the ceiling
Sharpie hearts and phone numbers turning brown
"Cara, bora — tô chegando!" she screams from the table
Like the whole damn summer's about to leave town
Gabriela found the table — well, the top of it
Flip-flop kicked off sideways, lost somewhere in between
Triangle player's got three beers in him
Best wrong thing I've heard, first note to last note clean
Waiter says calma, he's laughing too
Shrimp shells piled by the old menu
Last night of the season, everybody knows it
Nobody says it out loud — but everybody knows
Bora, mano, bora — summer's clocking out
Last night the beach is ours before they stack the chairs
Tô com saudade já, cara
And I just walked through the door
Bora, bora — let her burn
We'll miss it while we're still in it
That's what saudade's for
Old João at the corner keeps guarding his cooler
Says the tourists all dance like wounded birds
Then he's up with his cane doing half a samba
Spilling Brahma on his shirt without a word
Some kid from São Paulo in a shirt that isn't his
Bad idea glowing on a cracked phone screen
She doesn't pick up, so he kisses a stranger
And acts like that's what healing means
Kitchen door swings like a busted metronome
Garlic, lime, and diesel — don't even blink
Gabriela grabs me by the shoulders
Says, "Canta comigo, gringo — don't think"
Bora, mano, bora — summer's clocking out
Last night the beach is ours before they stack the chairs
Tô com saudade já, cara
And I just walked through the door
Bora, bora — let her burn
We'll miss it while we're still in it
That's what saudade's for
Gabriela yells não vai acabar and goes sideways off the table
Lands on her feet, keeps singing, beer running down her wrist
There's a napkin by the bathroom says, "Marina, forgive me — 1998"
Another one says, "Best fish I ever had"
No name, no date, just faith
I write, "I was here, I think"
Laughs once and crosses it out fast
Gabriela signs her name so big
It covers somebody's past
Until the owner with the bad knee climbs the ladder one more time
And the ceiling gets one story closer to the roof
Somebody yelled "Quem vai embora?" — who's leaving?
The whole bar yelled "Ninguém!" — nobody.
I figured that settled it.
Bora, mano, bora — summer's clocking out
Last night the beach is ours before they stack the chairs
Tô com saudade já, cara
And I just walked through the door
Bora, bora — let her burn
We'll miss it while we're still in it
That's what saudade's for
Gabriela's still singing, wrong key, right heart
João's asleep with his hand on his beer
I leave my napkin stuck up near the kitchen
"Bora, mano… wish you were here"