Hoxe, mañá e sempre

The song sounds like a prayer sung in solitude. There is no hysteria in it, but there is a persistent whisper that memory is the only form of immortality. Like a candle that descendants promise to light when the body is gone, and the voice remains an echo in the chest.

The repeated ‘solita estoy yo’ rocks like a spell - and it seems scary because of the emptiness, but at the same time calm: everything has already been done, everything is already enough. The soul asks not for pity, but only for attention - to its trace, to its light.

It turns out to be not even about death, but about a gentle way to come to terms with the inevitable. As if someone had left instructions in advance: please don't forget to light a candle and think good thoughts. Everything else is no longer important.