Song Of The Street Kid

This is my song as a street kid; Who will hear me singing the song of depression; Who will hear my voice if I speak;

This is my song as a street kid,
Who will hear me singing the song of depression,
Who will hear my voice if I speak,
Here on street gallivanting around the blazing sun with empty stomachs and empty bowls on our hands begging for cents; maybe we could be given one to survive,
Who will hear our suffering and smiling faces,
Who will I blame for the fate of life?

Here is my song of hope lingering in our mouths,
Who will hear and dance with me,
Bloody civilians stoning us because of our rags clothes,
Who will save us from the Lions hungry roaring vicariously at us morning and night,
Who will hear the voice of the poor kids sleeping near the sanctuary of God every day,
Yet our prayers are still in progress,
Yet we never stop brooding about the awaiting Messiah who never returned.

Ye Lord Jesus Christ accept my prayer request in your sanctuary,
Accept my tons of rhythmic hallelujah and dancing step in the alter of God,
Hear our cry of hope in your sanctuary,
We are suffering from the dreadful prison of poverty,
Hear our voice of hope in your realm,
Poverty is killing our souls slowing on the street,
Yet we never stop singing the song of patience.

Who will hear us if we speak,
Yet our hustle hasn't paid a cent,
Yet our political lions won't stop belittling us on Street,
Yet they never stop promising us about education; We are the future of tomorrow ,
It's the same song we hear every day,
Future of tomorrow are wandering on street begging,
Who will hear our clamoring voices?
Yet we never stop singing the song of patience.
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