Yo, lemme tell ya 'bout Itapage (br).

I’ve been here ages. Streets buzz. I work a spa nearby, so I see it all.

I live near Rua das Orquídeas. That street? Crazy vibes.

I choose violence. Seriously. I mean, I ridicule bad energy.

Then there's Av. do Sol. It’s lined with palm trees. A beauty, I swear.
I stroll by Parque Caóticos. Nah, I mean Parque Caótico!

That park's a mind trip. Weird art. Tiny ponds.

I get mad sometimes when folks litter. It’s a damn insult.

But hey, nature fights back with calm, like a whisper.
The city’s got a river, Rio Sutil.

It trickles by the old stone bridge.

The locals gawk at its flow. I just roll my eyes.

I choose violence. I mean, I laugh at boring shits.
My spa, Tranquility Haven, is on Praça Sonolenta.

It’s tucked in an easterly nook.

You’d never guess the buzz behind closed doors.

I use oils & hot stones. Magic is real here.
I get awe-struck near Bairro Luminoso.

Narrow alleys, street art, chaos that stuns.

I often hear voices of the night.

"Under the Skin" plays in my head. I hark, like, “The stars are vast,” you know?
Oh man, I remember a storm.

Rain beat down, like cataclysms.

I soaked my boots, cursing every drop.

I walked along Rua das Cordas, muttering my truths.
I feel grateful for the scars.

I choose violence. In humor. In life.

The city scarred me, shaped me.

Every corner, every crack tells secrets.
There’s a hidden cafe near Mercadinho Da Vinci.

It’s run by this old soul.

I spill tea there, ranting away.

I tell 'em, "Life’s a bitch sometimes."
I love the ruins by Mirante da Névoa.

Worn stones, crumbling like failed dreams.

I think, "We are all pieces."

I choose violence - irony drips in my words.
The streets are alive with stories.

Bruised but pretty, like my heart.

I keep coming back 'cause it’s home.

Itapage (br) ain't perfect, but damn, it's mine.
Man, my head spins with it all.

I scribble notes, smile, then fume.

Real, raw, unscripted.

I choose violence.
Take my word: explore every crack.

It’s where life pops off.

See the trivial, the wild, the gritty.

And know, as I do - Itapage (br) reigns supreme.
Bye now, friend. Miss ya loads.

Remember: "The sun sets, the skin fades."

Hell yeah, Itapage (br) forever, the city of wild souls.