On top of the roofs, TV antennas
They play urban music
In the streets, people begging with rotten plasters
They sing urban music
Motorcycles wanting attention It's three in the morning
it's just urban music
The armed police and shock troops spew urban music
And in schools children learn to repeat urban music
In bars, addicts always try to get urban music
The strong, dry and dirty wind in corners
Concrete looks like urban music
And the pack of dirty children in the middle of the street, urban music
And the bus stops are everyone there, urban music
The uniforms, the posters
Cinemas and homes
Favelas, penthouses
Almost everywhere and another child was born
There are no lies or truths here
There is only urban music

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