Menino Caçador

When I hear a race going downhill
I remember the little boy from Goiânia when he was fifteen years old
His father turned and said: Here, take my two guns
Follow the hunters, I can't see them anymore

He grabbed a cartridge belt and put it on his waist
And he told his teammates not to pay attention to his height
I have faith that this boy will do well
If he takes after his father, the weight is guaranteed

In those dark woods where the painted ones roam
They released the Americans right at the foot of a mountain range
The jaguar's meow made a sound that shook the whole earth
The brave little boy from Goiânia was left alone, waiting

When the race pointed to two shots, it shook the backlands
Goianinho was quick and hit the heart of the game
The jaguar, drawn by the smoke, came towards him
And in a fight to the death, the two rolled into a ravine

My body even shivers when I remember that passage
Goianinho was dead right at the foot of a branch
Further on was the jaguar, the terror of these parts
The dogs, silent, in their final tribute

In that vast mountainous world, no one ever hunted again
Only the cicadas sing on these hot afternoons
A distant car horn fills the heart with sorrow
By touch, people say that he is the hunter boy