favela

See what I see, black, riddled with disease,

On the crooked and cold seminary street,

Where shotgun cries mix with the clicking of feet.

Babies are born as an old widow weeps.

"Rocinha, Rocinha" the children all sing.

Papa, the shanty king, mama it's queen.

Washing lines strung in a web, eave to eave.

Sheets pegged and dancing in the westerly breeze.

Bleating, unkempt, the favela it breathes,

shoots up as the night falls on two shaky knees.

In the city of God, of weapons, of dreams.

Cidade de Deus, always believes.

Even though each man is left there to bleed.

Bled dry by the thirsty mouths of corruption and greed,

Still, Cidade de Deus always believes.

Always believes though it never receives.

I wish it could all disappear through a hole in the night,

Dollars and cents, rich and poor, black and white.

Instead we are all falling down, the divide is too wide.

Cidade de Deus, no God here tonight.

Cidade de Deus, favela in Rio de Janeiro.