Sitar Streets

Yeah... listen closely to the dusty streets. (uh-huh)

He woke up to the sound of the morning train Another heavy

sky full of dust and rain No coins in the pocket,

just a heavy chest In the heart of the alley,

putting dreams to test (whoa) He saw the older kids looking for

a quick run

Behind the concrete walls,

under a faded sun

This is the concrete jungle where we try to stand Writing our

own stories in the shifting sand (yeah) From the narrow lanes to

the highest peak This is the silent anthem that the struggle speaks

So he took a pen,

started carving out a lane Turned the concrete dust into a sweet

refrain No longer running with the shadows in the dark Every single

syllable was lighting up a spark (hah) Now the neighborhood is listening

to every word

The truest tale that the alleys ever heard

This is the concrete jungle where we try to stand Writing our

own stories in the shifting sand (yeah)

From the narrow lanes to the highest peak This is the silent

anthem that the struggle speaks

Yeah, we rise up from the ground...

(mmmm) No matter how deep the struggle.