Kids on the street
His shorts are so ragged for they seen better days.
down in the back streets this little boy strays.
His shirt is in tatters and there is mud on his face
He's wearing old trainers with only one lace
His hair is all matted and just sticks to his head
No home has this boy an old box is his bed
His eyes full of sorrow his hart full of hate
Is there hope for this boy or are we to late
The cities are full of kids of his kind
Escaping there fate with drugs and cheep wine
No coin in his pocket no place to call home
So back streets and alleys is where they do roam.
No football to play with no bike dose he ride
No fun loving parents to look up to with pride
His farther did vanished when times got to tough
His mother on the bottle she cant get enough
So were can he go to when he cant take any more
This child's so screwed up so horribly poor
He shivers from cold he's soaked to the skin
He's so bloody hungry he's so terribly thin
So late at night when you lay in your bed
With a nice soft pillow to cushion your head
Please say a prayer for those kids on the street
Before your eyes close and you drift of to sleep.
by C R CARROLL 2004