Monday morning
And the sun starts to break upon the street
Up on the hill, all the people awake
With no shoes on their feet
Walking down a million concrete steps
That they know so well
Into the city like locusts they come
From a living hell
They're just dreaming 'bout Friday night
When they go to Mangueira
And feel alright
Favela music

Attracted by the glare of neon lights
To the city they come
Packed like cattle in the back of a truck
In the burning sun
Each one hoping for the things he knows are so out of reach
Soon winds up another disillusioned person
Sleeping somewhere on the beach
When he's had enough, he just cries out loud
Then he goes to the city
And steals from the crowd
Favela music

Standing on the corner with his eyes
So big and so round
" Hey now, mister, won't you buy me a juice? "
He says looking round
But everybody just turns a blind eye
And they go on their way (yeah they do)
But no matter come rain or come shine
He's there every day
He ain't got no future, they're just keeping him down
But when it comes to football
He steals the crown
Favela music