Scribblin
I represent for the homeless,
Let down by a nation,
More interested in war and invasion,
When children are sleeping at railway stations.
No home or money,
They wish they can phone their mummy
To put a whole meal in their tummy,
So at night when the temperature drops,
I'm asking you, remember what you got,
These kids go home to a cardboard box,
They're the soul survivors,
Warming their hands with a flickering flame of their lighters,
All their life they've been frightened.
Walk the streets with their head down,
Knowing deep inside that they've really been let down,
By a country that's crippled,
And I thought mankind was supposed to be civil.