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(Awa) 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
Chorus 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
(Awa) 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
Chorus
(Sabre) 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
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