Sono de Iracema Aboio: Quando Eu Conversar Com Deus

When I talk to God
I will want to ask him
If he allowed this world
To become a sad place
And life to be only
This debt that we
Have to die to pay

I will say that injustice
Starts at birth
Some have a cradle and a fine mattress
Others on a cement floor
Some have love and affection
And others grow up in a nest
Of fear and suffering

Every night the world hears
The cries of the offended
Of the wives sewing
Shrouds for their husbands
News that never came
For the mothers still waiting
For missing children

Ragged migrants
In front of the golden gate
Knocking with all their might
No one hears their call
Calling for over a hundred years
Of hunger, of disappointments
But God is too busy