Chacina literally translates to "slaughter" or "massacre." It's a strong and somewhat grim word not commonly found in everyday song lyrics, making it particularly striking.
In the context of the song, Jão sings, "Me deixou em carne viva / Vivo dentro da chacina" (Left me raw / Alive within the slaughter). This powerful imagery suggests a profound emotional devastation, where the singer feels exposed and vulnerable, as if surviving a brutal emotional attack from a passionate, yet destructive, love. It evokes a sense of intense suffering and survival within a tumultuous relationship.
Jão turns a broken heart into something like a religious experience here. He opens underwater: "Mergulhei e era água fria" [I dived and it was cold water], begging the Holy Family for mercy so he can save himself. Barcelona is what saves him, or wrecks him again, depending on the verse. She "Me lambeu como um sorvete" [licked him like an ice cream] in the Mediterranean summer, "Feito à imagem de um deus" [made in the image of a god], or an Italian saint. He isn't describing a trip. He's describing a conversion.
By verse two he's naming names, "Lucía, Pablo, Héctor, María," like he's reading the guest list for his own goodbye party before he goes and ends "minha vida vazia" [my empty life] at "a obra prima em Santa Maria do Mar" [the masterpiece in Santa Maria del Mar], one of Barcelona's oldest churches. Then the chorus stops trying to make sentences and just repeats the city's name until it sounds less like a place and more like a chant. "Diz que me ama" [tell me you love me] is the one plain thing he lets himself say, right in the middle of spelling the rest out letter by letter: Bar-ce-lo-na.