Os Putos Lyrics in English Carlos Do Carmo

Below, I translated the lyrics of the song Os Putos by Carlos Do Carmo from Portuguese to English.
A rag ball in a puddle
A cheeky smile, a kick
Running down the hill, a hoop
And the sky in a kid's eyes
A slingshot that shoots hope
A sparrow in shorts, sly
And the power of being a child
Against the force of a cop, who's a brute
They look like flocks of loose sparrows
The kids, the kids
They're like Indians, captains of the gang
The kids, the kids
But when afternoon falls
The revolt's gone
They sit on Dad's lap
Tenderness comes back
And they hear him talk about the new man
They're the kids of this people
Learning to be men
Bottle caps shining in the hand
The urge that leaps to the axle
And a kid who says no
If a beating comes I won't allow it
A hidden marble at school
A top in a colorless pocket
And a kid who begs
'Cause hunger muffles his pain
They look like flocks of loose sparrows
The kids, the kids
They're like Indians, captains of the gang
The kids, the kids
But when afternoon falls
The revolt's gone
They sit on Dad's lap
Tenderness comes back
And they hear him talk about the new man
They're the kids of this people
Learning to be men
But when afternoon falls
The revolt's gone
They sit on Dad's lap
Tenderness comes back
And they hear him talk about the new man
They're the kids of this people
Learning to be men
Lyrics and Translations Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
Lyrics © Peermusic Publishing
Jose Carlos Pereira Ary Dos Santos, Manuel Paulo De Carvalho Costa
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SONG MEANING

Picture a lively Lisbon backstreet where barefoot kids dart like sparrows, homemade toys in hand and limitless imagination in their pockets. Carlos Do Carmo’s “Os Putos” paints that scene with bright splashes of sound: a rag-ball splashing in a puddle, a slingshot firing pure hope, marbles clinking, a spinning top humming. These “putos” (street kids) are fearless mini-captains of their own crew, defying stern policemen, shrugging off scraped knees and poverty with cheeky grins, and dreaming of a fairer world even when hunger nips at their bellies.

Yet the song is more than a playground snapshot; it is a gentle social manifesto. As dusk settles, the day’s “revolt” melts and the children curl up on their fathers’ laps, soaking in stories about the “homem novo” – the new, better person they might become. In that tender moment, Carlos Do Carmo reminds us that these mischievous youngsters carry Portugal’s future in their pockets, right beside the marbles and spinning tops. Their games echo resilience, their laughter signals hope, and their nightly return to affection hints that change begins with love and understanding.

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