Macaco takes us on a whirlwind trip around the globe – from the predawn streets of Tijuana to the buzzing avenues of New York, the midnight worries of Madrid, the pot-banging protests of São Paulo, and the sun-soaked roads of Dakar. In every city the soundtrack is different – a gunshot, a ticking clock, empty pots, lonely notifications – yet the chorus reminds us we are all “hijos de un mismo Dios,” children of the same God. By stitching these snapshots together, the song shines a playful spotlight on a serious truth: no matter where we wake up, the same questions echo in our ears. Why do the same people always fall? Why do our eyes cloud over and get used to pain?
The result is an energetic plea for empathy wrapped in irresistible rhythms. Macaco challenges the listener to swap indifference for curiosity, to see beyond borders and bank accounts, and to reject the “world of paper” that forces us to run with invisible chains. It is a melody of global solidarity, inviting us to dance, reflect, and finally hit pause on a system that keeps repeating the same sad chorus. So turn up the volume, feel the beat, and let the song remind you that your heart has plenty of neighbors, even on the other side of the planet.