Karina Buhr turns a traditional lullaby on its head with “Nassiria E Najar.” Instead of soothing words, she whispers urgent warnings about missiles, crumbling houses, and streets set on fire. The Brazilian singer places us in the shoes of children from the war-torn Iraqi cities of Nassiria, Najaf, and Baghdad, asking listeners to picture bedtime under falling bombs. Every playful image—craving a slice of cake, admiring a new dress—collides with the brutal possibility that there may be no tomorrow.
Behind the raw, almost child-like refrain “Dorme logo antes que você morra” (“Hurry and sleep before you die”) lies a sharp critique of how easily the world normalizes conflict. Buhr’s lyrics suggest that after “so much work” creating a planet and its people, humanity is carelessly watching it all melt away. By marrying a sweet lullaby structure with graphic war imagery, the song jolts us awake, urging empathy for the innocent and a reckoning with the senselessness of violence.