Xitlali

The bus weaves a ragged run, tyres shift over old bones, what is done is done, don’t pity us poor souls, life doesn't gift a throne, some rivers have no flow, anyone here can spot a bum, even take life as a joke, not where we come from, count pennies as stones, set a fire to life C’mon, die to wear fancy clothes, call upon the will of truth, sing in their best tones, will never sag or sluice, it’s for us young to go, seek fortune not forlorn, reach to change our home, walking down the road.