Viver (which translates to To Live) is Cláudia Pascoal’s spirited reminder that life never comes with an instruction manual. Over a playful, folk-pop groove she and Samuel Úria celebrate improvisation: the narrator brings “manuals for everything except whatever may come,” breaks plates yet sweeps the shards, dodges quarrels yet marches into battle. She is prepared, forgetful, fearless, and curious all at once, determined to experience every contradiction that makes real living far richer than simple existence.
The song paints a picture of someone who carries “the house on her back” and “a heart on the run,” stepping into the unknown with faith leaps rather than safe plans. Responsibilities are met—except, ironically, the biggest one: living itself. By the final chorus, rules and reservations have burned away “at stake zero,” and what remains is sheer eagerness to taste mystery. It is an anthem for anyone who wants to trade caution for courage, mourning for white clothes, and routine for the vibrant unpredictability of just being alive.