Turning 31, Brazilian singer Manu Gavassi opens her diary and lets us peek at the bittersweet magic of growing up. She sings about watching the world from the outside, feeling born in the wrong era, and side-eyeing a generation of glossy yet empty freedoms. The chorus celebrates the quiet superpower of time: every year burned and every version of herself shed has made her more alive, less afraid, and happily out of fashion.
The track is a love letter to authenticity. Manu chooses legend over trend, moonlight over sunlight, and meaningful rebellion over comfortable silence. She recognizes the wounds in her country’s culture, honors the voices of her ancestors, and dances in the darkness of her own beautiful madness. 31 invites listeners to trust the clock, protect their hearts, and turn every doubt into art.
Sub.ver.si.va is Manu Gavassi’s witty confession about a love story that feels more like a dare than a romance. She plays the role of the subversive girl who openly experiments with boundaries, “testing” her partner just to see if he will stay. Spoiler: he always does. The lyrics swing between flirtation and frustration, highlighting how both lovers claim they “don’t want problems” yet keep running back to the same magnetic, slightly toxic dynamic.
Underneath the playful tone, Manu spotlights the contradiction at the core of many modern relationships: craving stability while feeding off the thrill of chaos. She admits her “maturity is selective,” embraces her own dose of “madness,” and calls out her partner for loving it just as much. In the end, their endless loop isn’t about logic at all—it’s about attention, obsession, and the excitement of breaking the rules together.
Manu Gavassi’s “Bossa Nossa” is a playful rebellion against people who take themselves way too seriously. Over a breezy, Brazilian groove she teases the purists who copy classic bossa nova without adding any true bossa nossa – our own style. Her remedy? “Duas doses de cachaça” (two shots of sugar-cane spirit) to loosen up the stiff poses and remind everyone that creativity should feel fun, messy and alive.
Through witty lines and cultural shout-outs, Manu pokes holes in empty nostalgia, questions false heroes and proudly admits she is no flawless singer yet totally committed to her art. She mixes humor with sharp social commentary, proving you can make people think while you make them laugh. “Bossa Nossa” is an invitation to drop the ego, celebrate authentic Brazilian flair and create music – or anything – with a smile instead of a frown.
“Gracinha” sounds like a playful nickname, yet this dreamy indie-bossa track is actually a heartfelt confession. Manu Gavassi sings about being tired of acting cute to please everyone while secretly feeling shattered. Each witty joke or charming smile becomes another layer of armor hiding her real emotions. Featuring Tim Bernardes’s delicate vocals and Amaro Freitas’s jazzy piano, the song blends sweetness with melancholy—perfectly mirroring the contrast between the bright melody and the lyrics’ raw honesty.
In her plea, Manu admits she would love to drop the princess pose, fall apart in front of someone she trusts, and ask them to save her from herself. Still, she feels “trapped by her birth chart,” blaming the stars for her rigid poise and her fear of reciprocating love. The repeated request “please, don’t give me more love” shows a self-aware vulnerability: she knows how deeply she aches, yet doubts her ability to love back. “Gracinha” ultimately captures the universal struggle between the face we show the world and the fragile heart that beats beneath our bravest smile.
Imagine hitting “record” on your phone and pouring your heart out in a single take. That is the vibe of Áudio De Desculpas, where Brazilian singer-songwriter Manu Gavassi turns a simple voice note into a raw confession. She lists her flaws with playful honesty—being “traumatized,” “confused,” and “emotionally dependent.” The chorus, built around the line “Eu só queria ser normal” (I just wanted to be normal), reveals a tug-of-war between wanting stability and embracing messy, real emotions. Every desculpa (sorry) is both an apology to someone else and a wink at her own dramatic nature.
The song is a reminder that authenticity can be chaotic, but it beats pretending to be perfect. Manu admits she feels “too much,” messes things up for “entertainment,” and wishes for “less guilt and more love.” By the end, her repeated apologies feel like a cathartic purge—an invitation for listeners to accept their own imperfections and laugh at their occasional emotional roller coasters. In short, it is a catchy, confession-style anthem for anyone who has ever blurted out sorry before truly figuring themselves out.
Sozinha is Manu Gavassi’s heartfelt reminder that love is often a roller-coaster: we give our all until it hurts, swear we will never fall again, then dive head-first into a new romance convinced this time will be different. The lyrics paint that familiar cycle with vivid images of loving “até sangrar” (until we bleed) and watching silence expose what words cannot. Each verse shows how easily hope is reborn even after disappointment, as if our hearts have a reset button no amount of heartbreak can break.
Yet the chorus flips the script. Manu discovers an unexpected superpower in being alone: her mind races with fresh ideas, her dreams grow bigger, and she finally sees that solitude can be liberating rather than lonely. By the end, she realizes she can become everything she ever wanted without the weight of a draining relationship. “Sozinha” is not a sad breakup song; it is a vibrant anthem of self-rediscovery, inviting listeners to trade heartache for personal freedom and to celebrate the thrilling possibility of loving themselves first.
“Esse Amor Tão Errado” feels like flipping through the last pages of a dramatic diary. Backed by Manu Gavassi’s catchy pop melody, the lyrics paint a picture of someone who finally sees through sweet words and rehearsed excuses. She realizes that this love has stolen pieces of her identity, leaving her pleading for scraps of affection that never satisfy. The song captures that sharp moment when denial fades and the ugly truth shines: this relationship is thrilling but fundamentally wrong.
Rather than dwelling on heartbreak, Manu turns the mic toward empowerment. She calls out the partner’s hollow apologies, admits that hearing them only hurts more, and boldly decides to “collect our choruses and walk away.” It is a relatable anthem for anyone ready to reclaim their voice, pack up the memories, and exit a toxic stage with head held high.
“23” captures the rush of a love that feels as spontaneous as it is irresistible. Manu Gavassi paints the scene with playful intimacy: two people lock eyes, instantly understand each other, and dive into a flirtatious game where clothes, calm, and caution all come off. Every kiss seems to rewrite the skyline, every night glows brighter than the last, and the singer tastes a thrilling freedom that makes her plead, “Me tira daqui” (get me out of here) as if only this romance can teleport her to a better world.
Yet beneath the sparkles lies a delicious contradiction. The chorus—“Eu não preciso de você, mas eu quero” (“I don’t need you, but I want you”)—celebrates youthful independence while admitting an undeniable craving. Manu openly owns her imperfections, shrugging, “Ninguém é maduro com 23” (“Nobody is mature at 23”), and chooses excitement over caution even if it means repeating mistakes. The song becomes an anthem for anyone enjoying the sweet tug-of-war between self-reliance and desire, reminding us that at twenty-three, freedom often tastes best when shared with someone who sees right through us.
Manu Gavassi invites us into a glittery dream where seduction feels like a magic trick you cannot escape. In "Hipnose" she paints herself as both the spell and the spell-caster: her kiss is an addictive loophole, the moment feels surreal, and waking up is the last thing you would want. The lyrics glide between softness and mischief, hinting at a romance that is part fantasy, part deliciously dangerous.
Dig a little deeper and the song reveals a playful power shift. Manu has been hurt before, but now she wears her confidence like that denim jacket she tells her lover to drop. Watching the other person squirm even makes her smile, and she admits it with a coy apology she never really means. "Hipnose" is a neon-lit anthem about taking control of your own narrative, enjoying the game of attraction, and knowing that you can walk away whenever you like – which only makes the other person want you more.
"Aqui Estamos Nós" is Manu Gavassi’s playful anthem for the “generation of loneliness”—a crowd that snaps selfies, sports fresh tattoos, and keeps its guard up after too many stolen hearts. The singer introduces two thrill seekers who dive into the night with no promises of forever, admitting they crave affection but love the adrenaline of danger even more. Lines like “Você não vai roubar meu coração” and “Eu não te prometo amor” capture the tug-of-war between wanting connection and fearing commitment, all wrapped in catchy pop hooks that make the inner conflict feel like a dancefloor confession.
Beneath the fun beat, Manu offers a sharp commentary on modern relationships: we talk about pain to look cool, we film moments instead of living them, and we are “too young to grow up, too old to change.” The result is a snapshot of young adults floating between cynicism and hope, daring each other to jump into uncertainty while secretly longing for something real. Press play, grab a friend’s hand, and enjoy the soundtrack of embracing chaos without apologizing for it.
“Planos Impossíveis” is Manu Gavassi’s heartfelt diary entry set to music. In it, a single week without seeing the person she loves feels like an eternity, turning everyday moments into reminders of saudade—that uniquely Brazilian mix of longing and nostalgia. She daydreams about “impossible plans” just to be near them, imagines writing “a thousand songs,” and rehearses every reason she has for liking them so much. The lyrics capture the thrill of young love and the ache of distance: texting at all hours, smiling at the phone before sleep, then crashing back into loneliness when reality returns.
Yet the song is anything but hopeless. Manu’s confessions are wrapped in upbeat pop melodies, so the listener feels both the sting of separation and the sparkle of possibility. By the final chorus she decides to speak up, promising hugs, explanations, and endless songs if only they can meet again. It is a bright, catchy reminder that love often survives on hope, creativity, and a little bit of musical bravery.
Manu Gavassi’s “Antes Do Fim” is a confession wrapped in soft-pop warmth. The Brazilian singer starts with a pact: this relationship was meant to be light, fun, and strictly temporary. Yet every sleepy morning together, every messy-hair kiss, chips away at that rule. Two “tired hearts” decide they should never fall in love, but the comfort of doing nothing side by side feels too perfect. Manu sings about the little moments—sharing silence, laughing at her accent, a kiss on the back—that quietly turn a casual fling into something dangerously tender.
The chorus is a tug-of-war between head and heart. She pleads “don’t look at me like that” because one more loving glance could make her throw “everything into the air” and surrender completely. “Antes Do Fim” captures the thrill and panic of realizing you want more than you ever planned, turning a supposed no-strings romance into a battle against feelings that refuse to stay casual.
Perigo is Manu Gavassi's playful confession that sometimes the most dangerous love is the one we crave the most.
From the very first lines, she tries to keep her "juízo" (good sense) intact, yet every touch, every gaze, sends her common sense flying. Manu paints a vivid scene: tangled hair, tilted heads, breathless kisses, and a magnetic grip around the waist that makes her melt. She knows this lover is perigo - danger - but that risky spark is exactly what makes the attraction so exhilarating.
With a chorus that chants "Eu nasci pro perigo" (I was born for danger), the singer embraces the thrill rather than runs from it. The song celebrates letting go of control, giving in to passion, and savoring the rush of a connection that feels almost too intense. It's an anthem for anyone who has ever looked temptation in the eye, grinned, and said: I want more.
Manu Gavassi turns late-night heart chatter into pop poetry in "Direção." Picture someone lying awake, eyes shut yet mind racing, replaying every text, every smile, every "what if". That is our narrator, admitting she loves far more than she dared to say a month ago. She is torn between running away and diving in, but one thing is crystal clear: she cannot stop thinking about this person. The chorus – "Eu e você, sem direção" – isn’t a complaint, it is an invitation. She wants to grab their hand, get hopelessly lost together, and never let go.
The song captures that electric moment when love feels both thrilling and terrifying. There is no road map, only raw emotion: sleepless nights, doubt about “right” or “wrong,” and a promise to stay even when words fail. By the final repeat of "não solte a minha mão jamais," Manu celebrates choosing the adventure of love over the safety of certainty. It is a vibrant reminder that sometimes the best direction is no direction at all, as long as you are holding the right hand.
Segredo (which means Secret in Portuguese) is a sparkling love confession where Manu Gavassi and Chay Suede celebrate that electrifying moment when someone new suddenly becomes your entire universe. From the very first lines, Manu is captivated by the other person’s eyes and smile, and every kiss feels like pressing pause on the rest of the world. The song paints love as an irresistible secret you want to shout from the rooftops, turning everyday reality upside down and making everything else fade into the background.
Through playful back-and-forth vocals, the duo promise to hold on to this feeling even when life keeps changing around them. The lyrics repeat their one unshakeable truth: “Nada importa no mundo quando você me beija” (“Nothing in the world matters when you kiss me”). It is a sweet anthem for anyone who has ever felt their heart flip over a single touch, wishing they could freeze time and stay in that perfect moment pra sempre assim — forever like this.
Vício is Manu Gavassi’s candid confession about a love that feels less like a romance and more like a habit she just cannot shake. The singer steps outside for “a little air” after exhausting herself with tears, admitting that although she ended the relationship, her heart keeps circling back. She deletes the phone number, repeats to herself that “our time is up”, yet keeps worrying because her ability to love this person is stronger than her talent for singing. The chorus hammers the idea: loving them is an addiction, a craving that flares up every time she breathes.
Beneath the catchy melody, the lyrics paint a tug-of-war between self-growth and emotional dependence. Manu looks at how far she has come since she was eighteen, but every glance at the ex pulls her focus away from herself. The song captures the bittersweet stage when you know you have to move on, yet the familiar rush of love feels irresistible. It is poignant, relatable and empowering, reminding listeners that recognizing the cycle is the first step to breaking free from it.
“Fora de Foco” (“Out of Focus”) plunges us into the exact instant when the world blurs and only one person matters. Manu Gavassi paints that scene with cinematic detail: the door clicks shut, skin tingles, breath catches, and every sense zooms in on an electrifying connection. The verse “A melhor hora é sempre quando você chega” (“The best moment is always when you arrive”) sets the tone - time bends, logic vanishes, and the lover’s touch becomes a magnetic force that steals all focus. Rhythmic beats mimic a racing heartbeat while lyrics whisper about hair-pulls, perfume trails, and whispered dares, creating a vivid collage of passion so intense it feels almost dangerous.
The repeated invitation “Então vem” (“So come”) is both a plea and a command, turning the song into a playful tug-of-war between craving and surrender. Manu captures the thrill of obsession: sleepless nights, breathless encounters, and the delicious sense that “all the time in the world is still too little.” It’s a celebration of chemistry that overrides reason, inviting listeners to revel in the dizzy rush of desire where everything else slips out of focus.
“Eu Me Proíbo” is Manu Gavassi’s playful yet heartfelt declaration of self-protection. The singer forbids herself from thinking about an old flame, listing a series of strict rules: don’t imagine the two of them together, don’t let him get close, don’t even allow a stolen kiss. These commands sound tough, but every “prohibition” is really a confession that the attraction is still alive. Manu captures that relatable tug-of-war between head and heart, where you know the ending might hurt but the temptation keeps knocking.
The chorus reveals the real battle: she begs him not to leave if she asks, not to forget what they shared, and not to stop thinking about her. Time feels elastic — sometimes crawling, sometimes racing — as she wavers between regret and desire. In the end, the song paints a vivid picture of someone who pretends to be in control yet secretly hopes the story isn’t over. It’s a catchy pop anthem about setting boundaries you secretly wish would be broken.
Ninguém Vai Saber is a playful confession booth set to a sultry pop-R&B groove. In this duet, Brazilian star Manu Gavassi and Portuguese singer Agir trade flirty whispers about giving in to an attraction that feels both thrilling and forbidden. Manu admits she normally trusts no one, yet this new spark makes her want to take a chance. Agir answers with bold promises of unforgettable moments behind closed doors. The chorus—repeating “ninguém vai saber” (“no one will know”)—turns their secret pact into an irresistible hook.
Beneath the catchy melody, the song explores two big feelings at once: the vulnerability of opening up to someone new and the adrenaline rush of a clandestine rendezvous. It celebrates living in the now, putting doubts and tomorrow’s consequences on mute while desire takes the lead. Listeners are invited to share the thrill, but only on one condition: keep it between us… nobody has to know!
Camiseta captures that bittersweet moment when a relationship seems over but the feelings refuse to fade. Manu Gavassi paints the scene of walking home under the sky, comforted only by the sound of the sea and the lingering scent of her ex’s T-shirt. The shirt becomes a souvenir of love, a small fabric anchor that keeps her hoping they will circle back to each other. She pleads for time to stop moving without her, insisting that the story of “us” is not finished yet.
As the song unfolds, the singer shifts between determination and self-empowerment. She wants her partner to fight for them, yet she also recognizes her own worth, hinting that she can have fun and move on if needed. The push-and-pull mirrors the messy reality of breakups: one minute you believe in destiny, the next you brace for independence. In the end the T-shirt remains with her, symbolizing both the love she once wore proudly and the confidence she is ready to grow into.
Me Beija sweeps you into a head-spinning moment of passion where tomorrow does not exist. Manu Gavassi sets the scene with playful confidence, trading flirty compliments and teasing challenges while standing so close she can hear secrets escape her lover’s lips. Every line builds a cinematic tension: clothes are borrowed, time is ignored, and the only thing that matters is how electric the air feels right now.
At the heart of the chorus, Manu urges “Me beija como se fosse acabar” — “Kiss me as if everything were about to end.” The song is a bright Brazilian pop anthem to living in the present, letting urgency fuel affection, and savoring each kiss like it is the last. It reminds us to leave our worries in the living room, forget the clock, and dive fully into the thrill of being close to someone who makes the world fade away.
Garoto Errado is Manu Gavassi’s playful confession of battling a crush on the exactly wrong boy. From the first verse she’s already spiraling: her heart races, her thoughts spin, and every teasing glance from him flips her world upside-down. The lyrics read like a diary entry where reason shouts “run away” while emotion whispers “stay,” capturing that delicious tug-of-war between wanting to protect your heart and craving the thrill of possibility. Manu paints the crush in vivid snapshots—his smile, the way he annoys her on purpose, the instant loss of words when he shows up—until the listener is right there with her, laughing, blushing, and overthinking every little signal.
Beneath the bubbly pop melody lies a universal truth: sometimes the people who set off the loudest alarm bells are the ones we daydream about most. Manu sums it up with the irresistible line “você é o tipo certo de garoto errado” (“you’re the perfect kind of wrong boy”), reminding us that love rarely follows logic. The song’s charm is in its honesty and humor; it turns fumbling uncertainty into a sing-along anthem, proving that even when our heads say “don’t fall,” our hearts often choose their own beat.
Manu Gavassi’s “Muito Muito” is a playful anthem of self-confidence and emotional mystery. The singer speaks to someone who is captivated by her exactly because she keeps her distance. She refuses to ask where they are going or what they are doing, claiming it simply doesn’t matter. Her heart is “gelo” (ice), and that icy attitude is what makes her irresistible. The repeated line “eu sou muito, muito pra você” (“I am way, way too much for you”) underlines her belief that she is out of this person’s league, turning the usual chase upside down.
At the same time, the song pokes fun at the human habit of wanting what we cannot have. By staying detached, Manu’s character becomes the ultimate temptation. The result is a catchy, tongue-in-cheek reminder that confidence can be magnetic, mystery can be powerful, and sometimes the best way to spark someone’s interest is to show you are perfectly fine without them.