I was seven

Seven years old
Life is just perfect
6th-floor apartment in a good part of Lisbon, it's certain
I'm lucky, have two parents that love me, and my curtains
Full of sunray when I wake up, I don't need to be searching
For love or waiting for it like I'm Avicii, I got it
I wanted to be a surfer but now I think that's not it
Or a fireman, or policeman, I have no plans of dying young
I wanna play football, trying to convince Mom to sign me up
And I'm playing 'round in the hallways with Dad, if I score - two cheers
While Mom holds my newborn brother I've been asking for two years
I ask Mom to play with us, Dad tells me she's resting
She does seem a bit tired, as she holds bro so rest, please
She goes put him in his crib and gives a kiss
Maybe now she can play
But the game stops as Dad leaves and goes away to grab a shopping list
He asks if I wanna go, of course I wanna go
And I ask Mom if she wants to join
But she has to stay to take care of bro, she's in pajamas
Me and Dad in the elevator then we walk to the car, sun shining
It's mid-July, we get in the car to the mall and as we get there I'm eyeing
A PSP that I really want so I can play FIFA and Star Wars-- wait
Spider-Man, Midnight Club, Assassin's Creed, and far more games
Dad says "In a few years, maybe" if I'm good, I see an action figure
It's Spider-Man, can I have that? It's not 100 bucks, so I can have a Peter
We're walking around the mall and suddenly it's like I have a feeling
That I can't explain, I think of my new toy, like a spider-sense
So I look around to see if I'm in danger, don't forget I'm seven and inside, I'm tense
Somewhere between the mouth, heart, lungs, my pee-pee, and the stomach, it's
Kinda weird, so I turn to Dad, I go tell him this
Before I can though, he gets a call
Man, I wonder who the hell it is
He says we gotta go home a little early, I comply and
Next thing I know we're in the car, the whole trip, just silence
I usually strike up some random talks but I'm quiet too
And I'm always so energetic but something tells me not to fight the mood
Cuz it's like the whole air is dense and I'm on the fence
To ask or not just what it is
Something isn't right, but I wanna enjoy this moment
Where everything is still okay, even if it's not, in my head, it is
Don't ask me how I know this, I know it makes no sense
No kid has these thoughts on his tiny little dome, it's
Not ordinary, oh cool, we're pulling up on our home, yes!
I can leave my head, when I leave the car, this feeling will be over
It had to be all in my head, we arrive and we pull over
To the back of our own building, Dad gets out, so I get the door
And we walk together, wait a minute, there's a body lying on the floor
Right in front of our backdoor and our front neighbor right next to it
Waiting for us, hard pic' to answer in a kid's head, as I'm getting near
I start recognizing clothes, it's a pajama, like Mom's pink one, that's weird
But she wasn't wearing--

...Okay, she was wearing it
And her Dalmatian slippers, no one else has that, no, go back
That's not what I wanna think, no, that's not mom, no, it can't be
We just saw her, no, I can't see
But I look at her, it's a woman there and it's the same hair, I'm so afraid
Not scared, but afraid
I ask our neighbor if that's my Mom, she says "no"
I don't get any comfort as I hear that
I wanna believe her, I do and don't
Dad takes me to our neighbors on the third floor
And then he goes back down
I wanna peak through the window but I don't want it to be real
Plus the neighbors wouldn't let me if I tried, they put on Zakumi for me
It's a show about the mascot from the World Cup
I love it but can't focus
They give me cereal, bowl's done

Time is slow but so much of it has passed, I don't even know what time it is
Heard the sirens a bit ago and I nearly cried but remembered
That even if it isn't Mom they have to come
I been overthinking, I don't even know what overthinking is
I don't even know if my Mom is dead or if she's alive
If she is, why, then are they taking so long, I can't think of it
Am I in denial, is it hope instead?
Heard the neighbors talking 'bout a child alone in bed, crying
Every time I hear the elevator, wonder if it's Dad coming up again
Wait, I think this time it's him
Elevator on the floor, it's him
Doorbell and the neighbors leave the kitchen they were in
I hear them talking as they let him in
He walks over to me, on the couch
He kneels and looks at me, I don't see a grin...
I don't see a grin
Please, don't let it be this grim
Please, don't say what I've been tryna dim
I think all of this but push it in
I try to clear the mind and focus on him
"Son, I have to tell you something", swear I've never seen my father cry
But he did as he told me "I'm sorry Pedro, your mother died"