| I represent for the homeless,
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| Let down by a nation,
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| More interested in war in this nation,
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| When children are sleeping at railway stations.
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| No home or money,
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| They wish they could call their mummy to put a hot meal in their tummy,
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| So at night when the temperature drops,
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| I’m asking you to remember what you got,
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| These kids go home to a cardboard box,
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| They’re the soul survivors,
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| Warming their hands with a flick and a flame in their lighters,
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| All their life they’ve been frightened.
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| On the streets with their head down,
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| Knowing deep inside that they’ve really been let down,
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| By a country that’s crippled,
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| And I thought mankind was supposed to be civil.
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| I represent for the people,
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| Let down by a nation,
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| And left in the streets where it’s evil,
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| Little kids surrounded by knives and heroin needles.
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| Yea I represent for the people,
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| Let down by a nation,
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| And left on the streets where it’s evil,
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| Community outcast, cold, tired and feeble.
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| I represent single Mums,
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| All alone on their own trying to put food in the mouths of her two sons,
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| And the fathers gone, there’s no cash flow, lack of income,
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| But that’s just the way it is,
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| She counts fifteen needles pushing her pram on the way to the lift,
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| And this is where Blair said it’s safe to live and raise kids.
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| She finds her way out of the block,
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| With two kids in a pram and a rip and a stain in her top,
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| She goes to sign on just to maintain the little she’s got,
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| For her kids sake,
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| But they’ll never seen a decent life,
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| But they can dream and they’ll sleep tonight,
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| They’ve been hung out and left to dry,
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| The kids are in bed, Mums left to cry.
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| I represent for the people,
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| Let down by a nation,
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| And left in the streets where it’s evil,
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| Little kids surrounded by knives and heroin needles.
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| Yea I represent for the people,
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| Let down by a nation,
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| And left on the streets where it’s evil,
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| Community outcast, cold, tired and feeble.
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| I represent for the old folk, that live alone,
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| No family or kids at home,
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| And all he wants is someone to speak to but nobody rings the phone.
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| Sits at home in the dark, no electric,
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| Since his wife passed, he can’t accept it,
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| He feels isolated, neglected,
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| And now his council flats infested,
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| So he goes to the shop for his papers,
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| With a stick and he falls in the mud,
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| The people around him all pulled him up,
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| But to him that’s just a reminder,
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| He’s old and he’s weak with no one to love.
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| He sees clouds up above,
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| Another bad day in the diary,
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| An old man by the many,
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| Killed by society, strangled quietly.
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| I represent for the people,
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| Let down by a nation,
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| And left in the streets where it’s evil,
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| Little kids surrounded by knives and heroin needles.
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| Yea I represent for the people,
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| Let down by a nation,
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| And left on the streets where it’s evil,
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| Community outcast, cold, tired and feeble.
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| I represent for the people,
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| Let down by a nation,
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| And left in the streets where it’s evil,
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| Little kids surrounded by knives and heroin needles.
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| Yea I represent for the people,
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| Let down by a nation,
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| And left on the streets where it’s evil,
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| Community outcast, cold, tired and feeble. |