Whenever I am here
I try to capture it for those
Who have not been
This place is so unique
Equal parts of poverty and glamour
Paradise and pollution, mountain and sea
But most of all the people
So many shades of beauty
And before I get a stare for being a man, I must include them
All, men, women and children
Black, brown, beige, white and everything

The rhythm of movement
The slippery language that can get caught up
At just the right moment
ďaoĒ and ďxĒ sound beautiful
An accordion writes like Pynchon
A guitar can paint like Klee
Percussion stutters a groove like the best sex youíve ever had
You can get sticky and aroused even when itís cool

I find myself on the porch again
Where Iíve written about the sea
Though now Iím pointed toward the
Mountains, towers flashing, favelas quiet as Haydn,
A statue looking like a bridge pin lit from below

Tonight I made a prediction
That someone would cry tonight
And I was right, even if I couldnít see her, her heart
Needed cleansing, her eyes a fresh landscape for tomorrow

Iím just going to keep singing this song
Perhaps youíll be able to hear Rio
In my voice,
the rich donít have to move and the poor move or die, so much history, so many visitors and the locals dance to a beat that you only find here, you donít really have to understand, just listen and it will be clear, genetic grace, ripe fruit juicing all over your hands, the sound of truth being accepted, my heart cradled in Rio, 12 years now passed, the legend of drunken fractures mixes with clear eyes and clear skies, I am blessed, I have been to Rio once again,
Perhaps I will be fortunate again and find myself in Rio.