Homem Na Estrada

Man on the Road

A man on the road restarts his life
His purpose: His freedom
That was lost, subtracted
And wants to prove to himself that he has truly changed
That he has recovered and wants to live in peace
Not look back, tell crime: Never again
Because his childhood was not a bed of roses, no
In the juvenile detention center, painful memories, then

Yes, make money, get rich, finally
Many died dreaming high like this
Tell me who is happy, who doesn't despair
Seeing their child born in the cradle of misery
A place where the only attractions were
The bar and the candomblé to receive blessings
This is the stage of the story that will be told by me
A man on the road

Balanced on a cliff, a poorly finished and dirty room
But, his only home, his possession and his refuge
A horrible smell of sewage in the backyard
Above or below, if it rains it will be fatal
A piece of hell, this is where I am
Even the IBGE passed by here and never came back
Numbered the shacks, asked a bunch of questions
Soon after they forgot, sons of bitches!
Found a dead and raped girl
They must have been very angry (man, so many blows)

She was unrecognizable, her face disfigured
Midnight came and the body was still there
Covered with a sheet, dried by the sun, thrown
The IML was only ten hours late
Yes, make money, get rich, finally
I want my son not to even remember this place
Have a secure life, I don't want him to grow up
With a gun in his waist and a PT to his head
And the rest of the night without sleep, he thinks
What to do to get out of this situation?
Unemployed then, with a bad reputation
Lived in detention, nobody trusts him
And this man's life was forever damaged
A man on the road

A man on the road

Another day dawns and everything is exactly the same
Unbearable heat, 28 degrees
Water is missing, it's routine, monotony
No deadline to return, huh!
It's been five days
It's ten o'clock, the street is busy
An ambulance was called with extreme urgency
Madness, violence, exaggerated
He killed his own mother, he was drunk

But long before the hangover he was judged
Dragged through the street, the poor guy
An inevitable lynching, just imagine
He looked really bad, they had no mercy
The rich campaign against drugs
And talk about its destructive power
On the other hand, they promote and make a lot of money
With alcohol sold in the favela
He leaves soaked, goes for a walk
Doesn't believe what he sees, not like that
Children, cats, dogs fight inch by inch
For their breakfast on the side of the market
Kids with no future, I can already see
They only go to school to eat, nothing more
How will they learn without someone's encouragement
Without pride and respect, without health and peace

A buddy of mine was making some money
Had bought a car, even had a Rolex
He was shot point-blank at school
Supplying the rich kids with flour
He became famous, made the news
Made money for the newspapers, huh
Poster for the police
Twenty years old, reached the top spots
Superstar of popular news

A week later the crack arrived
Rich people behind, board of directors
Here, outskirts, plenty of misery
A daily wage guarantees the workforce
The clientele has money and buys well
Everything at home, hot back of a partner
The rich kids are crazy to the bone
Selling drugs around here, big business
Yes, make money, get rich, finally
I want a better future, I don't want to die like this
In any morgue, a nameless and penniless person
The man on the road

Robberies in the neighborhood raised suspicions
They soon accused the favela as usual
And the rumor going around is that this man
Has his name on the list of suspects, posted on the bar wall

Night falls and a strange atmosphere in the air
And he, unsuspecting, goes to sleep peacefully
But secretly they snitched on his background
As if it were an incurable disease
On his arm the tattoo, DVC, a passage, 157 in the law
On his side there's no one else
Criminal Justice is relentless
They take away his freedom, family, and morals
Even far from the prison system
They will forever call you an ex-convict
I don't trust the police, damn race!!!
If they find me shot on the sidewalk
They kick my face and spit on me
I would bleed to death (it's over, goodbye)
That's why I take care of my own security

It's dawn, everything seems normal
But this man wakes up, sensing evil
A lot of dogs barking, he wakes up hearing
Car noises and footsteps in the backyard
The neighborhood is quiet and insecure
Pondering the end they already know well
In the favela's dawn there are no laws
Maybe the law of silence, the law of the dog perhaps
They're going to invade his shack, it's the police
They came to mess things up, full of hatred and malice
Sons of bitches, scavengers
They've already given my sentence and I wasn't even involved
They're not few and they came very crazy
Killing in cold blood, they won't miss the chance
Fifteen guys outside, different calibers
And I only have a thirteen automatic shots
It's just me and myself, my God and my orixá
At the first noise, I'll shoot
If they catch me, my son will be left with no one
And what they want: Another black kid in the juvenile detention center

Yes, make money, get rich, finally
We dream our whole lives and only wake up at the end
My truth was different, there's no more time for anything
Bang! Bang! Bang!

Mulatto man appearing
Between twenty-five and thirty years old
Is found dead on the road of
M'Boi Mirim without a number
Everything indicates it was a settling of scores between rival gangs
According to the police, the victim had an extensive criminal record