(Awa)  Small town boy got big city dreams  He feels the chill of the night through his jeans  It bites the skin like the knife he carries   Shadows his face underneath his hoody    Walks to a home that the government owns  Holes fill the walls where the photos should go  Last night’s takeaways is still in the stove  He takes a...  Seat at the table and go over his notes    Chorus  He’s trying make it  While trying to hide  Two edges  To his double life  School of   Thought to his left  And hard knocks   To his right  He’s just trying survive    (Awa)  Streetwise way beyond his years  Can launch his fists like he handles Shakespeare  Nobody knows and he doesn’t care  All that matters are the colours he wears    Hungry for something that he can’t eat  Calms his nerves with every word that he sees  Lights his cigarette, has a cup of tea  He takes a seat at the table and continues to read     Chorus    (Sabre)  Rise and shine but nothing looks bright  Books camouflaged by cans   He jumps on his bike  Dad gave it as a gift last night  Wonder if he’s changed for good this time    Shrugs and hopes for the best,  got his headphones on  Prepares for the test mouthing words to the song  Miss gave him props on a job well done    “An A parents must be proud of you son”    Smiling back with a nod little does she know  Enrolled himself with no help from home  Hides the bike in the bushes   Scared it might be hot so he doesn’t want to push it    Game face hard  Raise hoodie full mast  Set sail through the yard  Play jester of the class    these lyrics are submitted by aLLy