Just minimum wage lovers in life like the weather,
I’m over with words, and moving on in lines.
In crowded London streets; a dim light skyline.
A chorus of kids sing our praises.
Broken lines of interception repeat; eternity.
Lets paint mugs only with our finger prints;
everything glitter and gold.
Home sick for plaid curtains,
while recklessley abandoning our life in this town;
freedom with a fast paced heart wins our whims.