In the dead stillness of the night,
When the moon is fair, full and bright,
On the cold cobblestone children lay
Butted like butts in a filthy ashtray.
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The painting you did through story telling words really beautiful, and yes it sad....
Of future hold no more, bring what left in you to turn dust to be stone
not easy now to blow by the wind, be strong be bolder
because what past gave to you is not a story of sad, but to tell you
what you should do bigger than being a street child
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The painting you did through story telling words really beautiful, and yes it sad.... Of future hold no more, bring what left in you to turn dust to be stone not easy now to blow by the wind, be strong be bolder because what past gave to you is not a story of sad, but to tell you what you should do bigger than being a street child