'Super' is Jão’s adrenaline-charged love letter to big dreams and the restless heart that refuses to stay small. In the lyrics, he slips out of his “corpo pequeno” and blasts off toward neon city lights, carried by an inner blaze that turns doubts into rocket fuel. We feel the push-and-pull between home and horizon: the quiet whisper of his mother’s house, the free-fall wind that can no longer reach him, and the promise that he will one day return—transformed. Every line crackles with the tension of wanting everything: the glory of billboards, the sting of rain, the roar of falling, the calm of rising.
At its core, the song is about reinvention. Jão burns through old versions of himself “milhares de vezes,” breaks apart, and rebuilds, each time brighter and bolder. That supersônico heartbeat surges past pain until he feels “nada,” then suddenly “tudo,” capturing the dizzy extremes of chasing an immortal dream. Picture a night on a skyscraper roof, city lights below, wolf-pack friends at your side, and flames in your chest. “Super” invites listeners to light their own spark, sprint into the unknown, and trust that—even if the fall feels endless—the fire inside will carry them home, shining louder than any fear.