Favela Music - Ritchie

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

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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

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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

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