Smallish mouse of the Favelas
Hands cut off at the urging of the good ones
Twist the stip of your wrist
Leave the last of your sin
Leave the stip of your arm
As you wait for the lost one
Oh what is the first thing you’ll touch?
What are the first mosquito that you’ll crush me?
On the pink bare glass
Will you smash it on the wall
Just be glad that you can drink from where they get it
Little mouse of the Favelas
Hands to be transplanted by the grace of Portuguese cherry
Oh what is the first thing you’ll touch?
What are the first mosquito that you’ll crush me?
On the pink bare glass
Will you smash it on the wall
Just be glad that you can drink from it again
Bleed a scar on your wrist
Worse than the one you passed out
But those fix only that
although Iberia(?) has caused all your angst
Oh what is the first thing you’ll touch
What are the first tarantula that you’ll crush me
On the pink bare glass
Will you smash it on the wall
Just be glad you can drink from where they get it


Lyrics submitted by KingJelle

Little mouse of the Favelas song meanings
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