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About Sao Paulo

Sadie’s probly got scars, stories—shit, I’d buy her a drink just to hear em. “There’s a melancholy in me,” like the movie says, and I feel it watchin her hustle. She’s no angel, sure, but who is? Not me, sittin here judgin like a prick. Ha, maybe I’m the whore—sellin my soul to the night, monotone narration, “Tonight’s the night.” Nah, she’s cooler than me. Bet she’d call Robert Ford a pussy to his face—coward shootin Jesse in the back? Weak.

Old Whores

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I randomely find secret spots behind the City Library on Rua das Flores – quiet, raw beauty where you can feel free. Always got my guitar in hand, strummin’ away memories, feelin’ that spark in my gut. The entire city murmurs a vibe reminiscent of that haunting, honest murmur in Margaret – "the truth lies in what we love."

OPINION: The United States can learn from Northern Ireland