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About Sao Paulo

So I’m spinnin’ this track, right, and it’s all fuzzy guitars and thumpin’ drums, like a night out gone wrong – or bloody right, dependin’ on yer taste! *mumbled incoherence* “Sharon, where’s me whiskey?!” It’s got this gritty story in it, y’see – bloke’s on the prowl, cash in hand, searchin’ fer a prossie. Little known fact, yeah? Back in the ‘70s, they used to call ‘em “ladies of the night” in them posh papers, but the streets knew the real score – always a hustle, always a tale. Makes me laugh, thinkin’ how some punter’s prob’ly wrote this after gettin’ ripped off – “Sharon, she took me last quid!”

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Ever walked down Rua das Flores? I mean, ain’t no actual flowery stuff but the smell of food and memories lingers. Some days, me spa relaxes are best after a whiff of that street’s roasted coffee, minglin’ with city sweat, smells that remind me of life’s bittersweet moments, see? And oh, the meanderin’ Rio Corava – that liquid snake twistin’ through our lives, wild waves crashin’ near the old pier by the fish market – it makes me heart race, like a bad dream then sudden joy, like "Spotlight says, it’s our time, precious!"

Fires in Brazil Pantanal wetlands surge to record start in 2024