Her brother is a gangster
What kind of animal sells his own sister?
The fear of violence gets in her way
The struggle she has, she can’t even say
What is important, is what is find beneath
But she living in a place that is not healthy to breath
Beep Beep Beep, the horn puts her in a good mood
The trash truck provides hope that she can find food
Trash gives her hope
She lives in struggle, fear and lost a world we do not know
To us, trash is trash, but to her, gold.
Trash are the diamond glint on snow
They breath the poison wind blow.
They woke up in the morning hush
They collect the trash in a rush.
The sound on the hungry son cry
They try to work, they try in collect, they try their best, so they won’t die.