Turtwig Sunrise on cracked walls Children chasing dreams Smoke rising flow From corner schemes I walk through used mirrored speak Feet on hot stalactites line in here, just drops of rain, but I carry blessings in my woven hat, lion's courage bold, never looking back, market fullest out, echoing air, shaking for tomorrow and with a humble prayer little notes run wild, laying in the dust, my smiles in the struggle, it is still a must colour