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Prospect - text


Small town boy got big city dreams
He feels the chill of the night through his jeans
It bites the skin like the knife he carries
Shadows his face underneath his hoody

Walks to a home that the government owns
Holes fill the walls where the photos should go
Last night's takeaways is still in the stove
He takes a...
Seat at the table and go over his notes

He's trying make it
While trying to hide
Two edges
To his double life
School of
Thought to his left
And hard knocks
To his right
He's just trying survive

Streetwise way beyond his years
Can launch his fists like he handles Shakespeare
Nobody knows and he doesn't care
All that matters are the colours he wears

Hungry for something that he can't eat
Calms his nerves with every word that he sees
Lights his cigarette, has a cup of tea
He takes a seat at the table and continues to read


Rise and shine but nothing looks bright
Books camouflaged by cans
He jumps on his bike
Dad gave it as a gift last night
Wonder if he's changed for good this time

Shrugs and hopes for the best,
got his headphones on
Prepares for the test mouthing words to the song
Miss gave him props on a job well done

\"An A parents must be proud of you son\"

Smiling back with a nod little does she know
Enrolled himself with no help from home
Hides the bike in the bushes
Scared it might be hot so he doesn't want to push it

Game face hard
Raise hoodie full mast
Set sail through the yard
Play jester of the class

Text přidal kamilos

Video přidal kamilos

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