One day I asked:
Grandfather, where is God?
My grandfather got sad,
and replied me nothing.
My grandfather died in the fields,
without prayer or confession.
And the natives buried him,
flute of cane and drum.
Time after I asked:
Father, what do you know of God?
My father got serious
and replied me nothing.
My father died in the mine
without doctor or protection.
Color of mine blood
has the gold of the boss!
My brother lives in the mountains
and he doesn't know a flower.
Sweat, malaria, snakes,
the life of the lumberjack.
May nobody ask him
if he knows where God is.
By his house didn't pass
such an important sir.
I sing by the roads,
and when I'm in prision
I hear the voice of the people
that sing better than me.
There's an issue on the Earth
more important than God.
And is that nobody spits blood
for another to live better.
God takes care of the poors?
Maybe yes, maybe not.
But I'm sure he lunches
in the boss table.