Brasil Em Chamas

How to stop this fire
These firearms, this cruel game
Who sets these files on fire
That kills the natives, but doesn't turn into a reel
Who distills this hatred that burns and
Still insists on saying it's orders from heaven?
And the museums and our
Animals, and our wetlands go up in flames

Dead species in live money
Will they be mere stickers on a piece of paper?
What's the value of a jaguar and a loose wolf
If trapped in a pocket they're a great trophy
And the common people tired of poison
Crawl cornered like a rattlesnake
And this scream is their rattle
It's a remnant of faith, seasoned with gall
And the sweat of work is the forgotten dewdrop

Burn the witches again, oh
Burn the witches again, oh
Everything that doesn't bring money to us
Throw straight into the fire
Burn the books again, oh
Burn the hope of a people
We are reborn from the ashes
Flowers that grow from the mud

Brazil... Our name came from a tree
Or have you forgotten your roots
Between the Ten Commandments and the
Deforestation, we invented an idea of a country
We killed Tupis, Guaranis, enslaved and burned
The skin, Africans, and then we made sure to burn
Documents proving the atrocity of these inhuman acts
But, brothers, Favela is also the name of a tree
And poverty? It's the fruit of these 500 years
Of these disappointments
Brazil, we still try to hide the graves and burn the evidence
Of this dark past, of this hostile legacy
Our country has the name of a tree
But justice, around here, never flourished
Bullet in the rifle, fire in the fuse
In the Amazon and in the Pantanal
Follows the plan of a criminal State
That sows evil

That's why we sing, Now
Fire on the racists and in the central plateau
No one will erase our history
Our struggle and cultural memory
And look at the total irony
Indians called this place Pindorama
The land of palm trees
Today this land burns in flames
And the Brazil that flourished
Was from these warrior people
Represented in the Mangueira parade
But to our sadness
All this beauty always
Turns to ashes on a Wednesday

Burn the witches again, oh
Burn the witches again, oh
Everything that doesn't bring money to us
Throw straight into the fire
Burn the books again, oh
Burn the hope of a people
We are reborn from the ashes
Flowers that grow from the mud

Flowers that grow from the mud
We are reborn again