Supermarket

Before the uncontested myths
The poetry of economic crime
You'd see me one day as a child
Curling forward, screaming "fire"
The biggest supermarket in my grandma's neighborhood was burning
And it was spectacular
Spectacular

And all the adults walking by
Wearing nervous, awkward smiles
A chance for some to socialize
There were eight buildings, like matchboxes
Surrounded by a wall

And in the entrance for the cars
They painted a big Brazilian flag
I don't remember what year it was
But I don't think we won no world cup that year
I kept screaming "Save yourselves"
"Save yourselves"

But what good winning was
A big black cloud hang above
Engulfing us
And I remember I would cough
Pretending I was dying
And no one paid attention to my unconvincing crying

And now I can't recall what really happened after all
They must've fixed it up cause some time later
It was as good as new
It was like the fire never happened