Feed me old man, don’t stand there like a tree,
For this is as hungry as a boy can possibly be...
Am not asking for your clothes, your staff or your glasses,
Just gimme some food, so that this night too passes...
I have to sleep soon, empty stomach or not,
I guess we are the children that God forgot;
Waking up before dawn, on a street that’s dimly lit,
Begging aint fun, even if you get used to it!!
I spend my days here, cross legged i sit,
People seem to like you, for here they don’t spit;
Waking up in the morning, the tower clock chiming five,
I say my thanks to God, for keeping me alive!!
Lawyers, workers and busineesmen in suits,
I can tell them apart, by theirs slippers and boots..
With faces grim they head to their daily grand,
Some of them see me, but most are blind..
Trinkets and coins, and the very rare note,
Put thoughts in my head and hope starts to float;
Will you take me outta here Old man, to a place far away,
With a place to peacefully sleep, and three meals a day??
Sung by a boy begging in front of the Mahatmas Statue
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