El pan de los ángeles
Barricada
The bread of the angels
It doesn't change places no matter how much you want
It grabs the caiman's mouth from behind
Death squads
clean the city
the merchants pay
in a deadly silence
Fear is the front line
for the children of rape
and the threat of oblivion
stuck to the neck.
The ball swings closer and closer
breaking the air confused and dangerously
Rio de Janeiro every day carnival
street children, mulatto where are they?
Fear is the front line
for the children of rape
And the threat of oblivion
stuck to the neck... stuck to the neck.
The bread, the bread of the angels
the bread, the preacher's bread
The future that is always seen walks barefoot
behind bars another wall
and the favela burns.
Since you learn to step
it doesn't change places no matter how much you want
since you learn to step
death squads clean the city
since you learn to step
street children, mulatto where are they?
